Road to Nowhere
by Falling to Fly
Summary: Their words are like knives, their actions the hand that twists the blade. He's taken it, never saying a word. But now he's done suffering in silence. He's leaving, and he isn't turning back. Even though it just might be the biggest mistake of his life.
1. Iron

**I managed to restrain myself long enough to wait and post this today. I hope all of you had a very Merry Christmas. I know I sure did. :) Those of you who have had anything to do with me at all in the past week know that I have never been so excited to write anything in my entire life. I've done a lot of work for this: I've done lots of research, read personal accounts of kids who have gone through this, I've extensively outlined this whole thing, I've looked up quotes, I've watched videos on YouTube, I'm reading a book about someone who went through this, I found an app with stuff about this, and I've even made a playlist with songs that I think will go nicely with all off this. I'm going all out for this, and I am SO excited for this. That said, I really hope that you guys like this too. (Look at how many times I just said "this." -dead-) :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

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"_When we long for life without difficulties, remind us that oaks grow strong in contrary winds and __diamonds__ are made under pressure."  
_-Peter Marshall

* * *

Los Angeles. To some it was known as the City of Angels; to some, Southland. A great many called it L.A., and the people who thought that they were absolutely hilarious even called it Lalaland. But the one thing the city was known for by everyone was Hollywood. All of the movie stars, pop stars, and any other famous person made their way through Los Angeles at one point or another, because it wasn't just a city for them; it was _the _city. Everyone who was anyone lived there, because living in L.A. meant you were a somebody. And James Diamond had _always_ dreamed of being a somebody.

It was a well known fact by everyone that was friends with the sixteen year old that he had dreamed of becoming famous since he was a little kid. Every chance he got he was singing or dancing, often getting on the nerves of his best friends. But no one could deny that James possessed serious talent, and it was no surprise to anyone that he had gotten to Los Angeles by the time he was sixteen.

Granted, he had gotten there with the help of his three best friends. It was at Carlos' house that he had seen that life changing commercial that told him that the great Gustavo Rocque was in town. That was like an open invitation, and instantly James had known that that was his shot. As Kendall had always said, opportunities like that came around once in a lifetime. And so James had taken it.

Of course, Logan was the one who drove them all to the audition. Even though James was practically screaming at him the entire time, he had managed to drive across the icy roads all the way to the theater where one man had the potential to make James' dreams come true. The way James saw it, Carlos was responsible for showing him the door to his dreams, Logan was responsible for getting James to that door, and Kendall, well, Kendall was responsible for all the rest.

It was the blond who had reminded them in the midst of all the chaos that Logan had his learner's permit. It was he who came up with the idea to make a deal with their neighbor so that they would have a car, and an adult in that car. Kendall was the one who had jumped to James' defense when Gustavo told him that he had "no fire." Kendall did more work than anyone to get James to that audition, and when Gustavo had dared to offer _him _a recording contract, he had still managed to find a way to make his best friend's dream come true. It was safe to say that James was where he was today because he had the most amazing friends in the world.

But that was what best friends do for each other, and in the following months that they had been in Los Angeles, the boys had gotten into so many adventures with each other that they lost track of who owed who, and James had decided that they were even. After all, they were becoming famous right alongside him, and as far as he could tell they were having just as much fun as he was. Life was great; he was doing what he loved, and what he had always dreamed, and he got to do it with his friends by his side to support him throughout the whole thing.

It had been nearly a year since the boys first came to L.A. and things were still going perfectly. Every day he was reminded by how lucky he was to have such amazing friends. The four of them shared a special bond, one that could never be broken. They had been tested time and time again, and every time they overcame a challenge together their friendship only grew stronger. The connection was like iron: strong, unbreakable, impossible to overthrow. James knew all of this, and he never doubted any of it. How could he? He and the others had been friends since he moved from New York when he was five years old. Any friendship that lasted for eleven years had to be solid; _iron_. But one thing that James failed to remember about iron was that, with enough force, it could become bent, warped, twisted. Iron seemed so unbeatable, the _ultimate _substance, but there were still ways to ruin it. All it took was pressure. Lots and lots of pressure.

* * *

"James, catch!" James looked up from his phone just in time to see a Frisbee heading right for his face. Instinctively he threw up his free hand, catching the purple plastic disc with the ease of an old pro just before it could make contact with his nose. Carlos grinned from where he stood about twenty feet away, laughing as James held the Frisbee in one hand while glancing down at the screen of his phone one last time before slipping it into his pocket. It was a beautiful day outside; it wasn't too hot or too cold, there wasn't a cloud to be seen in the sky, and there was a gentle breeze, making the trees sway gently. When it was this nice outdoors not even the craziest person would stay inside, so naturally Kendall, Carlos, James, and Logan had gone to the Palm Woods Park as soon as they were done at the studio.

Now all four of them were standing in a shape that resembled a square, each boy in one corner. James flicked his wrist, sending the disc in Logan's direction. The dark haired boy caught it with the same ease that James had and he threw it to Kendall. James smiled, feeling all tenseness leave him as he relaxed. It was days like these that James loved the most, because as much as he loved singing and dancing, every teenager needed time to kick back and relax. Seeing the huge grins on his friends' faces he could tell that they felt the same way. This was what it was all about; spending time with his best friends without a care in the world or anything to take the moment away from all of them. Other people were strolling about the park and there were some kids off on the grass flying kites and playing tag; but there wasn't really anything there to bother them. Everything was perfect.

The boys tossed the disc back and forth, forgetting all of their worries. Logan's copy of _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets _lay forgotten in the grass, because even he couldn't pass up a good game of Frisbee, especially after the rough week of recording Gustavo had put them through. Carlos threw it to Logan, who threw it to Kendall. James grinned, guessing that Kendall would throw the Frisbee to him next. Just as he'd suspected, the blond swung his arm and snapped his wrist, sending the purple piece of plastic towards the brunette. James raised his hand, ready to catch it, when a high pitched, familiar voice called out from behind him, "Hey guys!"

James was distracted for just a second as he tried to see who had spoken, but it was enough so that the Frisbee hit him in the side of the head. It didn't hit hard or even really hurt, but he still found himself rubbing his head. He glanced behind him to see who was coming and saw Camille, Jo, and Stephanie, who had recently gotten back from the European Film Showcase. The girls smiled at the boys as the approached. Jo moved to stand next to Kendall, who instantly wrapped his arm around her waist, while Camille and Logan, who were apparently in the "on" stage in their on-again-off-again relationship, shared a quick kiss. Stephanie and Carlos weren't officially a couple, but if it didn't happen soon then everyone would be surprised, and the two were holding hands cheerfully. James stood off to the side, standing awkwardly and feeling like a seventh wheel.

"I'm so sorry, James!" The boy blinked and he noticed that Camille was looking at him in concern. "I didn't mean to distract you. Is your head okay?" James blinked and nodded. Kendall gave his trademark smirk, his eyes still sparkling with the happiness that the boys had been sharing only moments earlier. "I'm sure he's fine, Camille. There's barely a mark. I'm sure he has enough make up to cover that up, right James?" James frowned at him but quickly turned it into a smile as the others laughed. "Sure thing, Kendall." It wasn't like he wasn't used to people making jokes about him and his appearance. Besides, Kendall was just kidding around.

"I'm surprised it didn't just bounce off his hair. He uses so much Cuda that I'm surprised he doesn't have a helmet of hairspray," Logan joked. James smiled again, making it look cheerful, if a little forced. He _did _use a lot of Cuda products. It was all in good fun, just like it always was. When you're friends with someone for eleven years you're allowed to make fun of them every once in a while. James had done the same thing before. Like that time… He had to stop and think about it for a minute. When was the last time that he'd really made fun of someone? He could vaguely remember saying something about how Logan had pranked himself again during their annual Prank War. Did that count?

James shook himself out of his thoughts as Jo said something to Kendall. The blond nodded in response and turned to them. "Well, we're going to head down to the beach if anyone wants to join us." Carlos and Stephanie exchanged a look and nodded, stepping forward. "We're in," Carlos said, speaking for both of them. The two couples turned to Camille and Logan. The actress shook her head. "Sorry. I have an audition coming up, and I really need to practice my lines. I was thinking maybe you could help me?" She looked at Logan hopefully and her eyes brightened when he nodded. "Great! Let's go!" Without waiting for the others to say anything she grabbed Logan by the arm, dragging him off towards somewhere quieter in the park where they could rehearse.

Kendall, Carlos, Jo, and Stephanie smiled as they watched the two go and then looked at James, who was still just standing there. "Do you want to come with us, James?" Jo asked. She was being sincere, but James could tell that she wanted to spend the day with just her boyfriend, without his friend tagging along. Kendall gave him a look that was begging James to say no, and who was James to ruin a good day for his friends? He shook his head slowly, his mind already searching for an excuse not to go. "No, I think I'll just head back to the Palm Woods. It's been a long week," he said quietly. The others looked at him for a second, remembering how full of energy he'd been a minute ago. But their desire to spend the day on the beach surpassed any bad feelings they had about leaving James behind. "Well, only if you're sure," Carlos said. James nodded silently. The two couples smiled at him gratefully and began walking towards Jo's car, which was parked on the other side of the park. James watched them for a few seconds, ignoring the sudden pang of loneliness. He was being ridiculous. He'd spent the last hour with his friends, and they deserved to spend time with their girlfriends. He could find other things to do, like… He frowned to himself. Outside of his friends, he really didn't have much to do. He wracked his brain, trying to come up with something. He'd done so much tanning in the past week that Mrs. Knight had threatened lock him in his room if he did anymore, because she was seriously beginning to worry that he was getting too much sun. Maybe he would just hit the gym?

He nodded to himself, his mind made up, and began to make his way back towards the Palm Woods. He was already planning a workout in his mind when Carlos' voice rang out across the park. "You know, it's kind of funny that James is the only one out of the four of us that doesn't have a girlfriend. I mean, him of all people; can you believe it? Man, I remember back in Minnesota he had a date practically every night, and all of the girls chased after him, literally. I guess 'The Face' is losing his touch."

James was pretty sure that his friend hadn't meant to be so loud, but they were a good two or three hundred yards away and he could still hear him perfectly. He felt his shoulders tense involuntarily and his face turn heated as he blushed in embarrassment. His friends' laughter echoed in his ears, carrying with him all the way back to the Palm Woods.

He felt like someone had just kicked him in the stomach, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. What Carlos said wasn't exactly _not _true. Since coming to Los Angeles he hadn't dated many girls, and the few that he had had only lasted a day or two. Still, there was still that weird feeling in his heart, making it sink just a little bit. He quickly shook it off, though. He was just being sensitive, and he didn't need to give the others any other reason to make fun of him.

Still, it wasn't possible to completely ignore. Maybe if this had been the first time he'd had this feeling it would have been easier. But it wasn't; in fact, it had been going on for months. As the weeks had passed by he'd found himself becoming more and more affected by what his friends said. He wasn't sure why, since he and the others had constantly joked about each for as long as he could remember. He was just being stupid, and it didn't matter anyway. He would deal with that weird feeling like he always did, and it wasn't like his friends were joking constantly. They would stop eventually, just like they always did. But even telling himself this over and over again couldn't stop those voices in his head, repeating the words that his friends had said like a broken record.

"_I'm sure he has enough make up to cover that up…"_

"_He uses so much Cuda that I'm surprised he doesn't have a helmet of hairspray…"_

"_I guess 'The Face' is losing his touch…"_

James stepped into the elevator, pressing to button that would take him up to the second floor and shaking his head. There was no reason for him to be feeling like this. He had been friends with Kendall, Carlos, and Logan for as long as he could remember, and they had done so much for him that he had no right to complain. They had always been there for him, and he had always been there for them. There was no reason to think that they were serious about the things they said about him; there was no reason to tell them how badly they were hurting him.

The elevator doors closed with a ding and began to move upward. James pushed the jumbled thoughts to the back of his mind, deciding that putting them out of sight and out of mind would be the best course of action. But there was still a part of him that was left wondering if what his friends had said were true, and no amount of pushing away could keep his heavy heart from dropping a little bit. James reached 2J and headed straight for his room, grabbing his gym back from where he'd left it lying in the corner. Exercise was just what he needed to clear his head.

Within minutes he was up in the gym, giving all of his attention to lifting weights. Sweat ran down his body as he pushed himself to his limits, quickly forgetting the events that had taken place only ten minutes ago. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, but he ignored them. No one noticed the single tear that was mixed in, not even himself. Without realizing it, his bottled up emotions were stacking themselves on repressed feelings, ones that he hadn't felt in years. But he didn't notice any of this; he was doing everything in his power to forget and shove everything out. What was the worst that could happen?

And so the pressure began to build.

* * *

"_I've taken my bows and my curtain calls. You brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it and I thank you all. But it's been no bed of roses, no pleasure cruise. I consider it a challenge before the whole human race, and I ain't gonna lose…"  
_-We Are the Champions, Queen/Mayday Parade

* * *

**Hm… I feel like this chapter just jumped into things, mainly the second part. I don't know. If it helps, there have been a lot of times in BTR episodes where James could easily be hurting over something but doesn't show it, so things have built up more there. Plus, beginnings. They're never easy. But I think that once I get the first two chapters or so out of the way things will get better. I wouldn't be this excited if they didn't, right? :) Reviews?**


	2. Maybe

**Hey, look at this! I managed to get this chapter up today! But there's a **_**lot **_**of James angst in this chapter, so be warned. You guys are all so fantastic, because I feel like I got a _really _good response to the first chapter. I love you all. -heart- Oh, and after you're done with this, go read **_**Cave Quid Dicis **_**by ****TealMoose.****It's fantastic and really inspired this chapter, and it's got lovely James and Logan angst. The two of us are twins. Seriously. So go read it when you're done here! Also, big happy birthday to ****unnaturalstories****! I hope you like all the angst!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything**

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"_Maybe it's time to change and leave it all behind. I've never been one to walk alone, I've always been scared to try. So why does it feel so wrong, to reach for something more, to want to live a better life? What am I waiting for? 'Cause nothing stays the same. Maybe it's time to change."  
_-Sick Puppies, Maybe

* * *

James was lying on his bed, eyes closed as he struggled to rein in his racing mind, when he heard the apartment door open. He heard Carlos, Logan, and Kendall laughing quietly as the door clicked softly behind them. "Shhh!" James would know that sound anywhere. It was Logan. He did the same thing when James was trying to talk to him while he was on the phone, or when he was doing homework, or just when James was bothering him in general. "James might be sleeping! We don't want to wake him up!"

As if he had gotten any sleep. Ever since he'd gotten back from the Palm Woods Gym he'd been staring blankly at the ceiling. Sorting through his feelings was the last thing that he wanted, but it turned out that when someone has something that's eating away at them, no matter how hard they try to push it to the back of their minds, eventually it comes forth. And apparently James' version of 'eventually' was only after a few hours of putting it off. And so in the eight or so hours that he had been alone in the apartment, James had come to the conclusion that he was perhaps the stupidest person on the entire planet.

For the first hour he'd just lay there, counting ceiling tiles as he tried to keep his mind blank. He had no desire to do anything else, and even if he had, there really wasn't anything to do. He could feel things building up inside him, creating a crushing weight on his chest. And so in the second hour he had let up a little on the hold he had on his emotions.

He'd let up a little more than he intended to. For that hour, all he could think about was how since coming to L.A. his life had done a complete one eighty. Carlos had been completely right when he said that James had had a date nearly every night of the week. Back then he'd been Mr. Popular, the guy that everyone wanted to be. He wasn't the star quarterback or anything, but he _had _played football and done track, on top of hockey. It also helped that all of his teachers, who remembered what a fantastic student his older brother, Derek, had been and knew he was friends with the smartest kids in school, expected him to have straight A's and high B's in all of his classes. Between his good looks, athletic abilities, intelligence, sense of humor, great singing voice, and his ability to stay somewhat down to earth, he was _the _James Diamond. Every girl fell head over heels for him, and any guy who dared to hate for who he was and even _tried _to beat him up soon got over it, with a little "persuasion" from Kendall, Carlos, and Logan.

Everything had been so perfect back then, except for the fact that he wanted to become famous, and there was no way that that would happen in the little Minnesota town he lived in. But looking at it now, James realized that since coming to Los Angeles it had flipped on him. Now he was becoming famous, something he could have only dreamed about a year ago, but he'd lost a lot of the perks from his old life. He didn't have a date every night, or a party to go to every weekend, or anything to make him feel like he was someone _special. _He'd found out the hard way at that Cuda Man audition that he was no longer 'The Face.' In Hollywood, he was no longer some fantastic looking guy with a great voice and killer hair. Now he was "just a handsome grain of sand on an _extremely _beautiful beach." What was so special about him now?

In the third hour James found himself thinking about how dependent he'd come to be on his friends. Back in Minnesota he'd always been able to depend on them; he couldn't have called them his best friends if that wasn't the case. But back then, as he had already painfully reminded himself, he'd had a life of his own. Sure, he spent a lot of time with them, but if one of them was busy there was always something else he'd been able to do. And now… He wasn't even sure what that felt like anymore.

Of course, he wasn't _always _with them in L.A. There was that one audition he'd gone to with Camille to jumpstart his acting career. But he hadn't been to one of those since, since it was so awkward to be around Camille nowadays. Then there was that modeling thing he'd tried out, but obviously he'd been no good at that, since he couldn't handle all the competition, and he'd ended up only being good enough for an elbow cream ad. _Elbow cream. _What kind of person that had good looks did that? Then, of course, there was the time he had had a serious lapse in judgment and gone off with Hawk to become famous on his own. And that had been the most miserable thing in the world, and even when he found out that his friends were trying to replace him he came crawling back, just because he wanted, no, _needed _to be around them.

Other than that, he was rarely ever apart from them. All he really had to do these days when he wasn't around them was workout and tan, and you could only do that so many times before it got old. It was hard to think of more than a few times when he _wasn't _by the side of one of his friends, whether it was Kendall, Carlos, and Logan. And now, on days like this, he was reminded that in his journey to become famous, he'd lost everything but his friends. They were the only ones he had around.

And that was what had brought him to his thoughts in hour four. He began to question _how _he had changed so much. _"Never let yourself change for anyone." _His mother used to tell him that all the time when he was younger. Maybe she wasn't the best person to take advice from- in fact, she was the worst, if her last actions were anything to judge her by- but her words had always seemed to ring true. James was a unique individual, and why would he ever need to be someone he wasn't? He was a good liar, yes, but that didn't mean that he _liked _to do it. Maybe he kept a few secrets from his friends, but there wasn't much that they didn't know about him or, as far as he knew, that he didn't know about him. They had always accepted him for who he was, albeit with a few jokes here and there. But that was to be expected, right? He was a normal human being, with normal quirks to go along with his slightly abnormal life. But in the past year, he'd began to feel so… _different._

The first month or so had been great. It had taken a little bit of getting used to, but he was more than willing to pay that price for fame. After all, he'd dreamed about becoming a world famous singer for as long as he could remember. But after that things had just kept on changing. As the months wore on he'd felt like his every move was being analyzed, and he'd grown to be extra cautious with everything he did. Every move he made he was afraid was the wrong one, and it felt like if he didn't do everything _exactly _as everyone was expecting someone was waiting to jump on him, point out all of his mistakes. His friends had changed, too. Despite the promise Kendall had made them made, there was no denying that they'd all changed.

But instead of becoming the timid shells that he was now, they'd only grown more confident. Kendall had grown bolder, daring to speak out against people more often, but in a way that made him seem like a leader; so no one said anything. Carlos, who had never had any problem with taking risks and doing something daring, had matured a lot. He still pulled stunts that had everyone clutching at their hearts, but he'd softened a lot, taking an interest in girls that he'd never had before and cutting back a little bit with his wild side. And then there was shy Logan, who wasn't so shy anymore. He wasn't the same guy that shrank inside his shell every time someone said hi to him; in fact, James had seen him countless times waving to people that he hardly knew, if he'd even met them at all. He'd broken out of his timid, awkward stage, changing right alongside the other two. The three of them had grown, and James was incredibly proud of them. But at the same time he was also jealous, more than he would have cared to admit. And that led him into the fifth hour.

How? How was it fair? This was _his _dream. He'd been working at this for years; it was all he'd ever wanted to do, all he'd ever hoped he could be. Kendall, Carlos, and Logan had never cared about this. Sure, they had supported him entirely, but it had never been their dream. Logan had always wanted to be a doctor, and with his perfect grades everyone knew that he could do it. Kendall had always wanted to become a professional hockey player, and he was the star of their team, not to mention very passionate about the game. Carlos… no one was entirely sure what he wanted to be, but whatever he did he would be great at.

But none of them had ever wanted to be singers. James was constantly singing and dancing, showing off his talent for all of the world to see. He had worked at it, dedicating whatever free time he had to learning about the music industry. _He _had done so much work, because it was _his _dream. And yet here they all were. Not just him, but the others too. And he honestly would have been okay with that if things had been going as good for him as they were for his friends. But they weren't.

They were living his dream, and they were loving every minute of it. Their lives were so much better than they had been in Minnesota: they had more friends, a bigger reputation. They had girlfriends, and everyone just _loved _them. Everything was going perfectly for Kendall, Carlos, and Logan. But James? It was the opposite for him. _They _were having the time of their lives living _his _dream. And as much as James tried to deny it, there would always be a small part of him that would always hate them for that.

And so the sixth hour had begun, bringing with it more guilt than James had even thought possible for one person to feel. He was being so unfair. They had come to L.A. to support _him. _They had put their dreams on hold so that they could help _him. _Whether they enjoyed what they did or not wasn't what mattered; it was that everything they'd done in the past year, they'd done for James.

What kind of friend was he for hating them because they were happy? They deserved to have some joy, what with all they were doing for him. He had no right to be mad at them, no solid reason. He was just throwing himself his own pity party and looking for someone to blame. It was clear to him that he was being stupid, and that he was wrong to feel the way he did. So why wasn't it helping?

Hour seven. That had been, without a doubt, James' least favorite hour of them all. The guilt had dissipated, replaced by… He couldn't even pinpoint one emotion. Shame. Frustration. Bitterness. Stupidity. _Worthlessness. _He was blaming his friends for his problems, but maybe they weren't the real issue. Maybe it was him. If he was the only one who wasn't happy when he was the one who should have been the happiest then maybe it was something _he _was doing something wrong. That made the most sense. Maybe it was his fault that things weren't going his way, his fault that he was miserable.

He knew he'd made countless mistakes since coming to L.A. Most of them were small, insignificant. He couldn't even remember half of them because they were nothing; or maybe he couldn't remember because he'd made so many that he lost track? And then again, the big mistakes he'd made had nearly torn apart his friends and the band… So maybe that was it. Maybe he was to blame for all of this.

Maybe James was to blame for a lot of things in his life. The more he thought about it the more he began to convince himself. There were just so many instances when, now that he looked back at them, he realized that if he had done things differently things could have gone better. Again, they were mostly small things, and James doubted that they had too much of an effect on everyone's lives. But then again, after what had happened with his mom…

Everyone who knew the whole truth about his mother had spent countless hours telling him that what had happened was in no way his fault. They'd told him that he'd been the best son that anyone could have asked for, and what his mother did was a cowardly move, and that James had probably been one of the only reasons she stayed for as long as she did. And James had believed them. How could he not? To his ten year old mind, his mother was one of the most important people in his life. She'd always supported him in everything he did, and when he was around her there was a constant smile in her eyes. But now, looking back… Maybe she'd gone the way she did because he was just a _burden _to her. They all said that there was something wrong with her, but maybe he'd been that one last push that sent her over.

Maybe, maybe, _maybe. _It was all so indefinite, so imprecise. James _hated _not knowing. He didn't like it when things weren't set and stone, or when something was unclear. He liked to have answers, and right now all he had was questions. Lots and lots of questions. James didn't know if he was truly to blame for everything, but the huge weight on his chest was making him lean towards "yes."

After that, he was emotionally worn. In the eighth hour all he'd wanted to do was fall asleep, lose himself in the land of dreams. He was done thinking about his feelings; that was something girls did, and anyway, it just made him feel worse in the end. He had pressed his hands to his forehead, trying to calm his racing mind. He could feel his eyes beginning to grow heavy, but there was something keeping him awake. It was there, in the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. Every time he thought he had it within his grasp, it managed to slip away. He wanted to ignore it, but apparently whatever it was was important enough to keep him conscious, staring at the ceiling.

James had closed his eyes, trying to count sheep to lull himself to sleep. But instead of sheep, he saw Kendall, Carlos, and Logan standing in the park. They were saying everything that they'd said earlier that day, jokes and all. Listening to their words again, James felt a dull ache in his chest, but he ignored it. Something about the scene was screaming at him to be noticed. Logan walked away, just like he had when he'd left with Camille. Kendall and Carlos stood there for a few more seconds, then turned their backs on James, heading across the park to where Jo's car had been parked. Carlos said something to Kendall and his voice carried back to James. And then he knew what he'd been missing. His eyes snapped open and he stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes.

Carlos hadn't been looking at him when he'd spoken. He hadn't even been anywhere near James. Yes, his voice had carried, but maybe he hadn't intended for that to happen. Maybe his words had only been meant for Kendall and the girls to hear. Maybe he hadn't wanted James to hear what he'd been saying. He'd been talking behind his back. He'd been _making fun _of James behind his back. And the others had just gone along with it and laughed. There was no jumping to his defense, only laughter. James had been somewhat okay with the jokes up until that point, but now, with the knowledge that his _best friends _were talking about him when they thought he couldn't hear…

That was all he could think about until Kendall, Carlos, and Logan had gotten back home. He glanced over at the digital clock that rested beside his bed and was surprised the see that it was nearly one in the morning. What had they been doing all that time? Probably having tons of fun without him.

He heard quiet footsteps walking down the hall, accompanied by stifled laughter. He heard Logan shush them again, warning that if they weren't quiet they would wake James up. Kendall snorted. "We definitely don't want. I think I speak for us all when I say that James isn't the most pleasant to be around when doesn't get his sleep." James felt himself stiffen at his words, listening carefully to see if any of them said more. But he was met with silence as each of his friends went off into their own rooms, closing their doors behind them.

James lay there for a few more minutes before grabbing a pillow and pressing it to his face, trying to suppress the scream he felt building up inside him. So _that _was how they felt. But they couldn't really mean all that, right? There were probably so tired that they didn't even realize what they were saying… _Or maybe they were wide awake and knew exactly what they were saying, _the little voice in the back of his head taunted. _Maybe they thought you were asleep and thought that it was safe to talk about you. _

James pulled the pillow off of his head and rolled over onto his side, clutching the sheets around him as though his life depended on it. What did all of this mean? What exactly did his friends think about him, say about him? He didn't know. Just more questions, and he still didn't have any answers.

James finally drifted off into a fitful sleep an hour or so later, with the same questions still running around in his mind. Right before he fell asleep he managed to convince some part of himself that Kendall, Carlos, and Logan still cared, and that they would stop this eventually. They would go back to being the friends that he knew and loved, and he could put all this behind him. But there was still that voice, telling him that maybe his friends had _always _been this way, and that there was no going back to who James thought they were because _this _was how they'd been all along. James fell asleep with these thoughts chasing themselves around in his head, not sure which side he believed in.

And so the pressure continued to build.

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""_Life doesn't hurt until you think about how much things have changed, who you've lost along the way, and how much of it is your fault."  
_-Unknown

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**I warned you that there would be angst. This chapter really just ran away from me. Originally all of this was supposed to be… about 1,000 words?HAHA. And then there was supposed to be some other stuff. But obviously that didn't work, so that stuff gets to go into the next chapter. But this chapter has a theme song: Scarecrow by Between the Trees. Just listen to it. You'll see what I mean when I say it's perfect for this. Oh, and props to One Man Writing Games and theRescuer2 for noticing that Carlos was basically talking behind James' back in the last chapter. -nods- Reviews?**


	3. Change

**Once again you guys have blown my mind with the response I've gotten for this. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Also, since I'm incredibly stupid and forgot to tell everyone this in these first few chapters, Kendall, Carlos, and Logan might seem a little OOC a few times. Yeah, instead of seeming like the amazingly perfect boys that we all know and love they'll act like actual **_**teenagers. **_**Whoa! -dead- Last thing and then I'll end this long author's note. I saw Tangled last night. It was phenomenal, but every time I saw Flynn Ryder I thought of James, and often when Flynn was in peril, I thought of this story. So I wanted to cry a lot. Especially at the parts that were similar to what I have planned for this. And I feel so terrible for that and like such a bad person. Oh Disney. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

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"_I don't want to change. I want stay lying where I lay, eyes closed, set down on the pillow. Better change before it's too late. I guess that this is growing up."  
__-_Forever the Sickest Kids, Coffee Break

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James was so tired of trying.

It had been a week since that night in his room. He'd accepted that whatever happened to him was his fault. What was the point in denying it? Telling himself that oh no, _none _of what was happening was his fault wasn't going to get him anywhere, so why bother with that? So instead of hiding from the problem he tried to face it head on. Kind of.

He didn't go to his friends and ask them what was wrong with him. No, he didn't want to be a _burden _to them anymore than he already had. Instead, he'd pinpointed every flaw, every undesirable thing he could find about himself, and he'd "fixed" it. It had been painfully easy to find things; sleeping had proved impossible and he'd woken up at 3 AM, forming a list in his mind. The hard part was the actual _changing._ So many of the things that were wrong about him were things that he'd picked up years ago; they were a part of him, and now… Now they couldn't be. It didn't even feel like he was changing anything; it felt like he was becoming a completely different, _new _person. But it was all worth it, as long as he didn't have to live with the feeling that his friends hated him.

However, saying it and actually _doing _it were two different matters. It was like a bad habit: he knew he needed to change, but he had grown so used to being the way he was. He couldn't just snap his fingers like a genie and become the guy his friends wanted him to be. This was going to be a trial and error process, and he'd known that going into it. But even then, he hadn't expected it to be so difficult. That first morning had been a prime example, and looking back on it now James could see that he should have stopped trying then and there, because it was so easy to see that he was just setting himself up to fail.

_James stood next to the stove, suppressing a yawn as he finished cooking the eggs, sliding them off onto the serving tray so that it sat next to the bacon and pancakes he'd finished earlier. He glanced at the digital clock on the microwave: eight o'clock. The others wouldn't be up for at least another hour, probably later since they'd been up so late the night before. _

_His eyes felt so heavy, and his racing mind had finally calmed down. Sleep was beckoning him, inviting him in. He had a little bit of time before anyone else was up, so he sat down at one of the nearest bar stools, resting his head on the counter. His hair felt weird, since he was trying not to use so many products in it anymore. He was only going to rest his eyes for a few minutes…_

"_James?"James' head snapped up, looking around blearily to see who had called his name. Logan was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, and from where he was sitting he could see Kendall coming down the stairs and Carlos' head appearing from the bottom of the swirly slide. James blinked a few times and looked over at the clock again, rubbing his eyes wearily. 9:34. He must have dozed off._

_Logan glanced around the kitchen, raising his eyebrows when he saw the food sitting on the counter. Kendall and Carlos stumbled in just as he began to speak. "Did you make all this?" James followed Logan's hand to see what he was pointing at and nodded, pushing himself off the counter and trying to fight the weight on his eyes. "Yeah, you know… I cooked this… for you guys…" Clearly lack of sleep led to lack of coherence for him. _

_Kendall and Carlos wasted no time in grabbing plates, piling on as much food as they could. "It might be a little cold," James mumbled. "Cooked it earlier this morning." Kendall made his way over to the microwave, but Carlos didn't seem to care and dove right into his food. Logan, however, was still staring at James. He reached out and put his hand against James' forehead, frowning. "You don't have a fever…" _

_James blinked and looked at him in tired confusion. "I'm not sick," he pointed out, exhaustion slurring his words ever so slightly. Logan's frown deepened. "No, it's just… You've never made us breakfast before. Ever. I didn't even know you could cook." James nodded, leaning against the counter as he moved to get a plate for himself. "Well, I can. I used to have to make dinner a lot, when my dad worked late and Derek had football or something after school. And then no one was home when I woke up for school, so I made my own breakfast most of the time. So you know. I can cook."_

_Logan nodded in understanding, softening a bit when James explained himself. But something was still bothering him. Carlos picked up on it for him. "How long have you been awake?" James glanced over at him, shrugging. There was no reason to tell them that he'd gotten less than two hours of sleep the night before. "I don't know. A little while." Kendall looked over at him skeptically. "You look like you haven't slept in days, James."_

_Again James could only shrug. "Well I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me," he said, smiling past his exhaustion. Logan was still frowning at him but moved to get some food, taking his eyes off of James for a second. Once he'd fixed himself a plate the four moved to the table. _

_James picked up a piece of bacon and had it halfway to his mouth when he noticed that everyone was staring at him. He froze, looking at each of their faces. "Is something wrong?" What that meant was, "What did I do wrong this time?" Logan's frown had deepened, and Carlos and Kendall looked surprised. "What?" he asked timidly. Kendall pointed at his hair wordlessly while Logan spoke. "Your hair is messed up," he said bluntly._

_James raised his eyebrows and instinctively ran a hand through his hair, feeling as if he were under a spotlight. "Oh, yeah, well… You know. I thought I'd cut back a bit on the Cuda products." And make you think that I'm not some self-absorbed jerk that only cares about how he looks. "Besides, it probably isn't healthy to have that many chemicals in your hair, right? You're always telling me that, Logan."_

_The dark haired boy continued to frown, but he didn't say anything. Instead he reached out to feel James' forehead again. "Nope. Still no fever." James sighed, trying to sound tired more than frustration. It didn't take much effort. "Why do you keep thinking that I'm sick?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for a few seconds. _

_Logan looked like he wasn't sure how to answer his question, so Kendall did it for him. "You're just acting really weird." James looked over at him, and for a second he felt a small bit of hope burst in his chest. They thought he was acting weird; they thought he was acting _different. _They noticed. They didn't think he was strange as he was before. But Kendall's next words crushed those thoughts. "Well, weirder than normal, anyway."_

_No one saw the way James stiffened, or how his fist clenched tightly under the table. "I guess I'm just… trying something new," he said quietly. Carlos paused in shoveling pancakes down his throat and looked at James as though he'd gone crazy. "Why do you need to try something new?" he asked innocently. James looked at him. He wanted to scream, "Because you guys hate me the way I am! Because you guys talk about what a loser I am behind my back! Because I'm a loser, and a failure, and I don't want you guys to pretend that I'm not!" But instead he simply said, "Oh, just because." _

_Logan was still frowning and Kendall looked confused, but Carlos seemed oblivious and innocent, just like a little kid. "Okay," he said, nodding as if what James had said made all the sense in the world. James stood up with his plate in hand, appetite suddenly gone. He just wanted to get out of that room and away from all the questions. Maybe he needed to try a different approach if he wanted to change himself, one that would fly under the radar better. He set his plate down in the sink and exited the kitchen, moving in the direction of his room. But just when he reached the stairs, Carlos' voice rang out from behind him. _

"_Just remember, James, no matter how much you change yourself, you'll always be the same guy we've always known, at least to us!" James froze at the bottom of the stairs, his heart dropping a little bit. His legs had a mind of their own as they carried him up towards his bedroom and let him collapse onto his bed. He lay there with his face pressed into the pillows and just laid there, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. He was so, so tired, and he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep. But no matter how heavy his eyes were, or how exhausted his mind was, sleep had decided to take a vacation, and so he was left lying there. Everything felt so _wrong _to him, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. No matter how hard he tried to change._

Looking back on it now, Carlos' words should have stopped him dead in his tracks, since his friend had basically told him that no matter how much James tried, they would always see him as the same guy. Changing himself wouldn't fix anything; they would still think he was the same loser that he was now. But somehow he'd still managed to convince himself that his plan would work, and so he had gone through the whole week, trying to be a new, more likable, _good _James. And maybe if it had worked in the tiniest way he would have felt better about himself; but it didn't. His friends still had other plans with people who weren't _him_, and so for most of the week he'd been alone in the apartment. Carlos had almost stayed with him one day, but then Logan and Kendall had reminded him that he'd promised Bitters that he would fix something that he'd broken in one of his extreme stunts, and so once again James had been left with no one.

Every time his friends said something that could be taken as nice, all he heard was the negative. If Logan said he looked like he was in a good mood, James heard that he'd been acting horribly and now he was getting better. If Kendall said that maybe James should go hang out by the pool with some of their other friends, James heard that they needed an excuse to get them out of their hair so that they wouldn't bother them for a while. If Carlos said that they should start planning their next "social gathering," James heard he was boring, and that his friends were trying to give him the excitement that he was sorely lacking.

If he'd been thinking straight and not acting like such a pessimist then maybe he would have seen all the things that showed that his friends cared about him; the concern at how quiet he had become, the surprise at how suddenly he wanted to help them with _every single thing _they did, the worry at how tired he had been looking, the genuine happiness that they felt whenever they were around _him, _and not their girlfriends or anyone else at the Palm Woods. But he didn't see any of it. All he saw was how he kept messing up, and how changing himself didn't seem to be working for him.

And James was so _sick _of feeling like that. He didn't want to feel so pathetic and stupid and _worthless _when he was around his friends. He loved them with all of his heart; they were his brothers, and he'd never thought of them as anything less. But feeling like he had to put on an act, just for their approval… He was so tired of it. Everyone he'd ever known had always told him not to be fake, but he didn't know what else to do. Grin and bear it? Maybe that would work better. He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was tired of trying to be someone he wasn't, and he didn't think he could keep it up for much longer. After a week of trying and failing to convince himself that it was helping, he was finally done trying to pretend, because if he did it for much longer he was afraid he would explode. And the last thing he wanted to do was let it all go and hurt his friends in the end.

He didn't want them to know how _miserable _he was, and he was seriously beginning to think that maybe he _wasn't _to blame, and that maybe at least some of it was their fault. He knew that if things ever got out in the open that that was exactly what he would tell them: that _they _were the reason his self esteem had plummeted, and that _they _were making him feel like he didn't belong, just like they had been for what felt like so long. And then there jokes… The "funny" remarks hadn't stopped, not by a long shot. James always told himself that they would stop eventually, just like they always did, but as the week had worn on, he had found that the joking was becoming more and more frequent, and it felt like all of it was directed at _him. _And the worst part was, he didn't know how to deal with any of it. He was lost, and there was no light at the end of the tunnel to guide him through.

And so the pressure neared its breaking point.

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"_Tell me where our time went and if it was time well spent. Just don't let me fall asleep feeling empty again. 'Cause I fear I might break and I fear I can't take it. Tonight I'll lie awake feeling empty. I can feel the pressure, it's getting closer now. We're better off without you."  
__-_Paramore, Pressure

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**I don't know about this chapter. I feel like it was… forced. I had writer's block for most of it. :( Also, just hear me out. I know you can all see that James… isn't being smart. He's looking at all of this from a… dark place, if you will. I see this. You ****see this. But **_**he**_** doesn't. We all see that his friends care about him and love him just the way he is, but **_**he **_**doesn't. I just thought I should explain myself a little bit. I **_**know **_**that what he's thinking is wrong, but he doesn't. I'm just… giving you a look into how he's feeling. Okay? Just remember that. So, reviews?**


	4. You asked for it

**I'm really proud of how long this chapter is, considering that I haven't had one like this since August and I didn't even intend for it to be this long, so when it turned out like this I was reallyreally happy. :) Also, this chapter is dedicated to TealMoose, who helped me fix up a few key parts when I didn't know how to. Oh, you thought when I showed you this that the author's note was for real? Ha! Well, the second one is. But I fooled you! :) And just know that the quotes I used were really hard to pick, because I had 10+ other ones that I could have and really wanted to use, but in the end I finally chose these. It was a really hard decision. Last thing and then I'll end this. To happygurl101: Those were really good ideas, and I had thought about them when I was planning this whole thing out, but I already had this chapter written, and you'll see why James doesn't want to do at least one of those things in this chapter. But at some point you probably will see them in this fic. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

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_"I've learned to trust no one not even myself, for I lost trust and distanced myself. I'm so sick of the bottled up emotions that take the lead. They force me to have outbursts that make me bleed. No one ever sees I'm never happy. No one ever bothers to look at my bottled up emotions."  
-Unknown_

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The boys stumbled into the apartment, laughing and pushing each other around as the door closed behind them. The day had been so perfect for James: they'd had a great day at the recording studio, and for once Gustavo seemed happy with them, almost _proud. _But more than that, James had found himself genuinely smiling, and for the first time in over a week he felt like things were going back to the way they should be. Things felt _great. _And that should have been the first warning sign.

Katie jumped up from where she was sitting on the couch, wiping at her eyes furiously. "I thought you guys weren't going to be back until five!" she exclaimed, her voice thick with tears. James frowned. "Are you crying?" His voice was filled with real concern, but Kendall, Carlos, and Logan seemed to find it a little amusing that tough, unemotional Katie was actually in tears over whatever movie she was watching.

Katie sniffled and continued to run her eyes. "No! I just… the remote wasn't working, so I've been watching this really sad movie on Lifetime and uh, haven't blinked in a while." Without waiting for the others to respond the youngest Knight ran out of the room. The boys watched her leave with raised eyebrows, then turned to the television. "Well, if there's nothing else to watch…" Carlos, James, and Logan immediately saw what Kendall was getting at and sat down on the couch, trying to figure out what had happened during the first half of the movie. From what they could tell, something terrible had happened to some guy, and now he had become depressed. Just another stereotypical drama, but James still felt his heart plummet. This wouldn't be good.

"Hey guys, check this out. This dude is so pathetic!" James didn't look up as Kendall began to speak. He didn't want to see the laughter in his eyes, the way he thought that any of what was happening on the screen was funny. The others always seemed to find this kind of pain funny, and James couldn't figure out why for the life of him. Maybe they just didn't understand how hard it was like he did. "This guy needs a therapist, or maybe some of those 'happy pills.' Seriously. Does he really think that being depressed is going to get him anywhere?"

James stiffened at Kendall's words, clenching his teeth to stop himself from saying anything. Like the guy really had a choice over whether he was depressed or not. It wasn't like picking out which shirt he was going to wear that day, or deciding to go on a stroll in the park. People don't just walk down a street and randomly decide, "Hey! I think I'm going to be depressed today!" No. People can't control whether or not they're like that. Depression is a disease, not a choice. But apparently Kendall, Carlos, and Logan didn't quite see it that way.

"Yeah! Doesn't he realize that there are people who are way worse off than he is? He should stop feeling so sorry for himself and try to do something positive with his life." Carlos' words stung just as much as Kendall's had. They didn't know what that guy had gone through, what he still might be going through. For all they knew, he could have lost everyone and everything he ever cared about. They didn't know; they had no right to be saying anything.

With every word the others said James felt everything building up: anger, hurt, betrayal. They had no idea what they were saying, or how it was killing him to sit back and listen. But he didn't say a word. For now all he would do was watch, and wait. They would stop eventually; they always did.

James glanced over at Logan. The dark haired boy hadn't said anything the whole time and was just sitting back. He looked a little bit uncomfortable with what they were talking about, probably because of all the books he'd read about the topic. He knew everything that James knew, and as someone who hoped to become a doctor one would have thought that he would be more sensitive to this kind of thing. But there he was, smiling and going along with everything the others were saying. He was just as bad.

"Yeah, well, knowing how stupid those kinds of people are, that probably won't happen. In fact, if this were real I wouldn't be surprised if we turned on the news one night and saw that he'd thrown himself off a bridge." The three of them laughed. _Laughed. _James felt himself shaking in anger, he felt his self control waver for a moment. Before he could stop himself he'd spoken. "Shut up." His voice was low and hard, and the quiet hatred in his words scared even himself. Without realizing it he had curled his hands into fists, and if he hadn't known Kendall, Carlos, and Logan as long as he had he would have started throwing punches a long time ago.

His friends had stopped laughing and were staring at him, all of them frowning in confusion. "Calm down, James. It was just a joke." James snapped his head up, fixing Logan in a glare that made the shorter boy lean back. James opened his mouth, then shut it again. He needed to get a handle on his emotions, before he said something he would regret. He'd kept this to himself for as long as he could remember, and he couldn't just let it all go now. He just needed to hold his tongue, and act like nothing was wrong. But he should have known that his friends wouldn't let it be that easy for him.

"What's up with you?" Kendall asked, frowning. James shook his head, trying to hide his desperation with a sheepish smile. "Just forget about it. It was nothing, really." The three of them stared at him, disbelief shining in their eyes. "No, it wasn't nothing. You've been acting weird all week, and obviously something's bothering you. What's wrong, James?" Kendall asked. The tallest boy felt his heart drop a little, but he kept his face blank. Sometimes it scared him how in tune Kendall was with everyone's emotions. But he couldn't tell them, not now, not ever. "Nothing."

Frustration was quickly replacing confusion, and he could tell that they weren't going to drop the subject any time soon. "Just tell us, James," Carlos said, sighing in impatience. James just shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to figure out his next move. "Just let it go, okay?" Without waiting for an answer James stood up to leave, only to find Logan blocking his path. "James, please," he pleaded.

James' eyes softened for a brief second before he shook his head again, gently pushing Logan out of the way. "Just let it go, guys," he said quietly. He tried to move towards his room, but once again he found Logan in his way. "James, come on. Something's bothering you. Just tell us what's wrong, man. Whatever it is can't be that bad, right?" James stood there, staring at Logan as he struggled to control himself. Maybe it couldn't be that bad; maybe it could. But once this secret was told, he knew that everything else would come tumbling out, and he didn't want to risk that happening. He couldn't.

"Logan, get out of my way." His voice was still quiet, but the emotion packed behind his words could have knocked someone over. Despite this, Logan stood his ground, grabbing James by the arm as the boy tried to push past again. "Just talk to us!" he begged desperately, giving him a pleading look. James regarded him with careful, guarded eyes. "Logan, just drop it, okay? It's really not that big of a deal."

Kendall and Carlos had stood up while Logan and James argued, and now Kendall stepped forward. "If it were nothing you would just tell us about it," he pointed out, raising an eyebrow as James glared at him. "Tell us," he ordered. James shook his head, stepping away from Logan and backing up towards the door of the apartment. "I said to drop it." He was almost to the door, almost to freedom when Kendall reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him in place.

"Just tell us already, James." Kendall's voice had softened a little, but the frustration in his eyes hadn't lessened in the slightest. James didn't say anything; he couldn't trust himself to speak anymore. The more he refused to answer their questions, the more persistent they got, and it was only a matter of time before he lost what little self control he had left; and he _really _didn't want to do it around the guys.

"Come on, James. Just talk to us," Carlos said. He looked so young and innocent when he was confused. That was how James used to be. He'd been exactly like Carlos up until that one moment of his life, the one that had changed him forever. He'd been forced to grow up, to change into a different person. And now his friends wanted him to tell them and go through that pain again? "James." Said boy continued to glare at his friends, fighting back the anger and tears that were threatening to boil over inside of him.

"Why are you so angry, James? Don't deny that you aren't; I can see it in your face. What's wrong?" Kendall let his words hang in the air, giving James a chance to answer. The taller boy remained in stoic silence, clenching his teeth. Kendall closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, turning his head to the side. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the TV, still playing the movie that they had been watching earlier. Something clicked in the blonde's mind, and he turned back to James, his eyes careful. "Is that what you're so upset about? The movie?"

James still refused to say anything, but the way he flinched was enough for the others. "Come on, James. It's just a movie. Who cares what happens to that guy?" Logan said. He was trying to comfort his friend, but it only seemed to hurt him more. "It's not that," James whispered. As soon as the words left his lips he wanted to scream; why couldn't he have just agreed and let the subject drop?

"Then what is it, James?" He turned his attention to Carlos, who was looking at him pleadingly. "Why are you so upset?" James took a deep, calming breath. They were pushing too hard. They needed to stop before it escalated any further, because then he might tell them. Everything would come out in the open, and then there would be no going back. Kendall, Carlos, and Logan had no idea how much he'd been through, and how much pain they had inadvertently caused him, and he intended to keep it that way. Too bad they didn't seem to realize that.

"Tell us what's wrong, James," Kendall said, his voice becoming more forceful as he began to lose his patience. James shook his head stubbornly, his eyes cold and hard, but also imploring them all to drop it the subject and leave him alone. "Please, tell us." Logan and Carlos looked more sympathetic, but he could see that none of them would leave him alone until they got the truth. And he couldn't give them that. He wrenched himself free, jerking his shoulders out of Kendall's grasp as he grabbed the door handle, yanking it open. Before he could take another step, though, Kendall's voice rang out behind him. "Why do you care so much about some deadbeat depressed guy?" That one sentence was the last straw, and suddenly the dam broke, flooding him with an overwhelming rage.

That was James' breaking point. He whipped around, his eyes wild with rage as he glared down his best friends. They wanted to know what was wrong, fine. They had asked for it, and now that they'd pushed him to the edge, there was no going back. "I don't know, Kendall! Why don't you ask my _mom_!" The minute he spoke James snapped his mouth shut and covered his mouth, his eyes widening. _No. _

The frustration was replaced by bewilderment yet again as Kendall and the others processed his words. Kendall frowned, his eyes softening at the mention of James' mother. "James, I know your mom's death was hard on you. I remember how painful it was, and how devastated you were when you told us that you would never be able to see the guy who killed her brought to justice, even though I never understood how you lost hope so quickly. Your mom didn't deserve to die that way, and we're all sorry that they might never find the person responsible. But what-"

"No one killed her, Kendall!" And with those words he'd reached the point of no return. Everyone froze, and Kendall closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them again they were full of confusion and pity. "James, what are you-" James cut him off, his voice rising in pitch and volume with each word. "You heard me! No one killed her! Why do you think they weren't ever able to catch the guy? No one killed her! There was no one to catch!"

Kendall was at a complete loss for words. Logan stepped forward, looking timid as he approached his friend. "James, what… What are you talking about? You're mother was shot, and that was what killed her. Why are you saying that no one…"

James felt his hysteria rising. This was their fault. They had asked for this, and now they wouldn't believe it. He hoped and prayed that what they were about to learn was the _only _thing they discovered about him. "No one killed her," he repeated, his voice quieter but no less emotional. "What are you saying? If no one killed her, then how did she-"

"She killed herself, okay?" James screamed. Logan felt all the breath leave his lungs, and judging from the gasps from behind him Carlos and Kendall were feeling the exact same way. James took a deep, shuddering breath. "She was depressed and… She never got the help he needed. My dad and Derek and I... We didn't even know until after she…" He broke off, trying to compose himself and ignore the others' shocked, sympathetic looks.

"James, why… Why didn't you just tell us? I mean, I know it's a huge shock for us, but you could have told us. We wouldn't have thought any less of you for it," Carlos said gently. His voice was full of sincerity, but James just shook his head, trying to block out the sound of his friend's voice. "And if we'd known, we wouldn't have been such jerks and joked about it like we have been." When he realized what he'd said Carlos' eyes widened. "Oh man, James… Why didn't you say anything? You've had to listen to us this whole time and you didn't say a word. That must have been so hard on you…"

If James had said anything then he would have said _everything, _and he knew it. He didn't want their sympathy. He didn't want their condolences now that they knew the truth, or their assurances that they wouldn't joke about it ever again. He didn't care about any of it; all he felt was anger. All he wanted was for them to _leave him alone. _"Why were you guys joking about it in the first place? Huh? Why does _this _change anything? Even if my mom _hadn't _killed herself, what gives you guys the right to make fun of this? There are other people out there just like her, and you all do is _laugh _about it, like it's some huge joke. Well where's the punch line?" He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he wasn't being fair with them, but he didn't care anymore. They had asked for this.

All three of them were completely speechless. None of them knew what they wanted to say, and even if they had, James didn't want to hear it. He turned for the door again. "James, wait!" He let out a huff of annoyance, turning around and glaring at Logan. "What?" Logan bit his lip, suddenly looking nervous, but he didn't back down. "Why are you leaving? You don't need to. You should stay and talk to us."

Without realizing it James had once again fisted his hands, and he had to take a deep breath before he could respond. This was what he'd been avoiding for so long, but they were so dead set on knowing everything. Maybe he'd been hiding it for too long, or maybe revealing the truth about his mother's death had left him more emotionally worn than he'd expected. All he knew was that he was so tired of everything. He knew in the back of his mind that he should just keep his mouth shut, but they wanted to know, and he was too exhausted to fight anymore. "You want to know why I'm leaving?" he asked quietly. Logan, Carlos, and Kendall all leaned in, silently waiting for him to continue. "It's because I'm sick of this. It's not just the depression jokes I'm tired of; there's also the jokes about how I look, and how weird I am, and the way that I'm the only one who can't seem to find a steady girlfriend around here, and every other _little thing _that you can find wrong with me. Everything I do, you guys find some way to turn around and use it to make me feel bad. And you guys don't even seem to care."

The others looked more than a little hurt by what he was saying, but none of them tried to argue. "And you know, it used to be a lot easier to ignore. I mean, we're friends, right? Best friends. _Brothers_." He said the words slowly, letting them sink in before he continued. "That's what I used to tell myself. I convinced myself that even though I was a little weird sometimes, you guys would always be there for me, no matter what. And then Griffin dumped us, and you guys showed me the truth; you let me down. First you told me to give up on my dream of becoming famous and move on, like you guys did. But what did I have to move onto? So I moved on from Big Time Rush and went with Hawk. That might not have been my smartest move, but you guys weren't there to help me, so I did what I thought was right. And then you came back and just _expected _me to come along with you, like nothing had happened. And when I didn't, you guys tried to replace me. _Replace me. _I mean, I always told myself that I wasn't good enough for you, but that? I never expected you guys to do that. You let me down, and you proved to me that I wasn't good enough for you, and that I screw up just a _little _too much and I'm just a _little _too strange to really belong with you guys." He took a deep breath, feeling as though a huge weight had been taken off his back. But he should have known that after finally telling them how he truly felt, the weight would only be replaced by a heavier one.

Logan shook his head, as if he were trying to shake away what James was telling him. He was in denial, and he didn't want to listen to what James was saying anymore. None of them did. Now they realized why James had been so closed off, and to say that they regretted pushing him to talk to them would be a huge understatement. "James, you can't… Do you really feel that way? Are we really making you _that _miserable?"

All of the anger had finally left James at the end of his rant, and as he listened to Logan speak he felt his heart sinking. Why hadn't he tried to hide it for a little bit longer? "It's not that… I just…" But the damage was done. He couldn't take back what he'd said, and now he was going to have to face the consequences. "You just what, James? Is that how you feel or not?" Kendall spoke this time, his face full of betrayal. "I…" James was helpless. This was why he'd kept everything to himself for so long; he'd known it would blow up in the end, just like it was now. At that moment, he would have given anything to go back to that moment when they had started watching the movie, and then he would have made sure to keep his mouth shut. Then all of this could have been avoided, and he wouldn't have to deal it. But he couldn't turn back time; he was going to have to deal with the repercussions, and there was no telling what would happen. And that was probably the scariest part.

"Wow, James, I… I really don't know what to say," Kendall said, shock coating his words. James flinched at the hurt tone of his voice. "Guys, I-" Kendall cut him off. "Don't apologize, James. If we really make you that miserable then maybe we should be the ones apologizing." He sounded dazed, and it was impossible for James to tell if he meant what he was saying.

James looked at his three best friends, his heart finally plummeting all the way to the bottom and falling out of his shoes. Carlos looked like he was struggling to hold back tears, and his whole body was shaking. Logan looked more hurt than James had ever seen him before, like he'd just been stabbed in the back. And Kendall… Kendall looked plain mad. There was a raging fire behind his eyes, masking the pain as he glared at James. But that was all it was: a mask. Tears stung the tallest boy's eyes, and he backed away, shaking his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Kendall's face softened slightly when he saw that James meant what he said, but it didn't matter. James was sorry for how he felt; he was sorry for what he'd said; he was sorry for the pain he'd caused. Maybe this was why everyone let him down in the end; maybe, after everything was said and done, he caused so much pain that he didn't deserve to be able to rely on anyone. This was all his fault, and he couldn't take any of it back.

"I'm so sorry." He couldn't do this anymore. He didn't know whose fault any of it was, but it didn't matter; he just couldn't do it anymore. He was tired of the lies, the pain, and that awful feeling of treachery. He couldn't handle it anymore, and he wasn't going to hurt his friends on his downward spiral. Even if it was more their fault than anything. Even though, whether or not he would ever admit it to himself, they were more to blame than he ever would be.

With a choked sob, James turned and ran out of the apartment. No one followed him. He sprinted down the stairs and into the lobby, ignoring the concerned looks that his other Palm Woods friends were giving him. Concern meant that they cared about him, and after what he'd just done he didn't deserve that. He ran out into the parking, and then he couldn't see through the tears anymore, so he just ran. He ran, and he ran, and he ran, until finally he collapsed on an empty sidewalk, sinking to his knees and pulling at his hair. James looked around, trying to figure out where he was, but it was too dark. He didn't really care, though; all that mattered was that he was completely alone.

He let out a another sob, letting the tears fall freely. He was completely isolated. He couldn't go back, not now. How would he be able to face his friends? He needed some time to think, and he couldn't be around them when he did it; it would only make things blow up in his face all over again. This was why he kept secrets. His friends had chipped away at his wall, and when it had finally cracked everything had come tumbling down. And now nothing would ever be the same. James let out another strangled cry and dragged himself into a sitting position, leaning against the wall and pulling his knees to his chest.

"What have I done?"

* * *

_"All they want from him is everything, but he's no happy ever after."  
_-The Cab, Diamonds Are Forever (And Forever Is A Mighty Long Time)

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**I used to own a time share condo on Planet Angst. Recently, I upgraded to a year round mansion. It has a Tissue Room, which I recently restocked, and a Weeping Loft. I'll be there, acting as hostess (which basically means that I'll be curling up in my Loft.) Everyone is welcome to visit. Reviews?**


	5. Where do we go from here?

**I hope that everyone had a happy new year! I know I did. :) But I'm really not ready to go back to school. Winter break went by way too fast. :( Oh well. Now I have Spring Break and all the little minor holidays to look forward to until SUMMER. Because I'm really ready for summer. Really. Oh, and when you're done here, go read One Hundred Themes by _Manilai _because it's adorable and wonderful and reallyreally good. So go read that and REVIEW it! Love you guys. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

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"_All around him people stare as he slowly falls apart, picking up diamonds, spades, clubs, and hearts. It's hard to know where you're going when you don't know where to start. But that's just life and that's the hardest part."_

-Every Avenue, Clumsy Little Heart

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James didn't know what part of Los Angeles he was in; he'd never been there before, which made sense because it incredibly empty for such an overpopulated city. But frankly, he could have been on the moon and he wouldn't have cared less. There was only one thing running through his mind: He'd screwed up and things had gotten worse than he had ever imagined that they could be. And he didn't know how to fix it.

He pulled his knees to his chest tightly, shivering in the cool night air and trying to control the sobs that were wracking his body. He wasn't cold, not really; it was more from the fear that nothing would ever be the same again, because he was pretty sure that it wouldn't be. In the very back of his mind his brain had registered the fact that the area he was in didn't seem very safe, and it probably wasn't the most desirable area of town to be in. But that was in the _very _back, and he still had yet to completely realize this. For now all he could do was drown in his own sorrows.

He'd messed up; he'd lost his cool and snapped, and now his friends knew _everything. _The image of the hurt in their eyes when he had yelled at them would forever be burned into his memory. Each of them had reacted a little bit differently, but it had all boiled down to the same emotions: shock; pain; maybe slight anger; _betrayal. _James felt as though he had taken a knife and stabbed each of them in the heart, and he might as well have after what he'd said. How was he supposed to face them after that? What could he possibly say to make them understand that he didn't mean what he said? Unfortunately, the answer was painfully clear to him: he couldn't.

He had no doubt that if he asked them to his friends would forgive him in a heartbeat. Even though he'd screwed up in the biggest way possible, he was fairly certain that they would accept his apology. But there would be no getting around what a huge deal everything he had said had been. If Kendall, Carlos, and Logan never trusted him again, or could hardly even stand to be around him, he wouldn't be surprised. He deserved it.

Nothing any of them had ever said to him had _ever _been this severe, or so agonizingly painful. James had ripped any delusions they had about him to shreds with just a few words, and no matter what he said or did there was no way any of them were going to put everything behind them if he came back. James knew from personal experience that even when you assured everyone that you were fine and over whatever had happened, it was rarely ever true. That was how his friends would be if he went back to the apartment. That is, if they didn't explode with rage and pound him into the ground.

That was just another question he had to ask himself; how would his friends react? He really didn't know. He had a few theories, but none of them were set in stone. Growing up as a kid he'd always said that his choice superpower was to fly, but now he would have given anything to be able to see into the future. He _hated _not knowing and having to base his decisions on nothing but guesses and hope. 50/50 didn't work for him; it had always been 100% or nothing. And even though most of the time he'd ended up with the undetermined side, especially when it came to his music career, it was hard for him to be a glass half full kind of person when he could just as easily fail as he could succeed. Not knowing scared him more than anything else in the world, and at the moment he didn't know _anything. _

He was being weak; that was another thing he hated. He was acting like a scared little boy and being an absolute fool. He had to go home; he had to talk to the guys and try to fix everything and at least _attempt _to make things right again. He was being a coward at that moment and running away from his problems. What kind of a person did that make him? Certainly not one that he'd ever wanted to be. But the fact was, he was scared and uncertain, and he'd never felt so alone in his life. Even if he did just go back to the apartment, he _knew _that things would get so much worse before they got better, no matter how much he tried to take back what he said.

But there was another issue right there: he didn't see how he _needed _to take back what he said. Did he regret saying those things with every fiber of his being? Absolutely. But he was upset that he'd said it because he didn't want to deal with the repercussions. He hadn't been lying. Every word that had come out of his mouth had been completely true, and no matter how badly it hurt his friends or even himself, everything he'd said had been exactly what he'd really been feeling. So what was he supposed to do? Go back and lie and tell them that he didn't mean anything he'd said? Just continue lying to them like he had been for so long, just so that life could continue on and he could go back to suffering in silence? He couldn't do that. It had nearly killed him the first time, and he wasn't prepared for a round two.

He couldn't go back; he wasn't _willing _to go back. Everything would be changed and _different_; laughter and happy, comfortable times would be replaced by awkward silences and distrust. They wouldn't trust him, because no matter how careful he was they would be _afraid _that the next thing that came out of his mouth would be him saying that he hated them, and that they made his life a living Hell, and that they shouldn't even be allowed to call themselves his friends because they made him so miserable. Of course James would never say that to them, because he _didn't _hate them; in fact, he loved them with all of his heart. But in way, he's already said all of that to them. How could he go back to them, knowing how much pain he'd caused?

He needed somewhere to escape to, and the Palm Woods just wasn't a place where he could do that. He didn't really have a friend in the city he could stay with; Kelly lived at the Palm Woods, and Gustavo… Although James could see that the man had a heart somewhere inside him, he would probably be reluctant to let James stay with him, and anyway, Kendall, Carlos, and Logan could easily find him there and drag him back home. There really weren't very many options as far as escaping his troubles.

He would never resort to drugs or alcohol. James could remember this one guy that had been in their grade back in Minnesota, Roy Holson, that had turned to drugs because it was "cool." James had only ever spoken to him a few times, and half of the time he would be willing to bet that Roy was high; the other half he was probably drunk. But James had pitied him more than anything. It hurt to just sit back and watch as the boy threw away his life and destroyed himself, but the one time he'd tried to offer the boy help he'd ended up with a black eye and a swollen lip. No one ever did anything to help him, and very few were willing to try because to them Roy was just another alcoholic druggie. James had come to school one day and learned that Roy had been in a drunk driving accident and had been killed. Roy Holson, fifteen, and dead because of the mistakes he'd made. James had vowed right then and there that he would never turn to illegal substances, for any reason, and now nearly two years later he didn't have any intention of going back on that.

Suicide was just… No. He'd learned the hard way how hard it was for the loved ones of the person that killed themselves. His mother had taken her own life and left her family and friends to deal with the pain. James would never, _ever _put his friends through that kind of pain, nor would he let his father and brother go through something like that ever again. He'd done some selfish and cowardly things in his life, but no matter how hard things got he would _never _resort to ending his life. He wouldn't even think of it, so he quickly pushed the idea to the back of his mind.

There really wasn't much he could do, and the only other idea he had didn't make him happy at all. It was stupid, and dangerous, and he was probably more likely to get himself hurt, or worse. But he couldn't think of anything else, and besides, he wouldn't be staying away from for _that _long. He just needed a little while to collect his thoughts and sort through a few things without his friends around. Or at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

He just needed to be away from them for now. James didn't plan on it being permanent; that would have been even stupider than what he was planning now. He would stay away for a little while, or for however long it took for him to deal with everything and how to fix everything. And maybe it would even be good for him. He'd heard stories about other kids that had done this, and when they came back it made them appreciate everything that they had a lot more than they had before. Maybe this was what he needed.

His reasons were weak, and he knew that, but he ignored the screaming voice in his head that was telling him to just go home and face his problems like a man. He_ would _face everything eventually; just not now. The way he saw it, he was just… giving himself a little bit more time to prepare. At least, that was what he was going to keep assuring himself, even though he knew that he was just putting off the inevitable and most likely making everything worse. But he didn't see it that way; or rather, he _wouldn't _see it that way.

James searched through his pockets, trying to see what he had with him. He found his wallet in his jacket pocket and took it out, looking through it. He groaned to himself, silently cursing Mrs. Knight for not letting the boys carry around credit cards. Then again, credit cards could probably be traced to find him… Still, he only had twenty bucks, and that wasn't going to get him very far. But he would manage somehow. Kids did this all the time, and someof them survived. James shut out the little voice in his head that was reminding him that so many more of those kids didn't last more than a day. He would make it; He was smarter and stronger than most of those kids, and he was a survivor. He would make it. He would make it. He would make it.

If he hadn't been being so stubborn then maybe he would have listened to the logical side of his brain and realized that there was a good chance that he _wouldn't _make it. But he didn't. Instead, he slipped his wallet back into his pocket and stood up, wiping a few stray tears out of his eyes. He looked in both directions, trying to decide which way he was going to go. Finally he decided to take the path that would take him farther away from the Palm Woods. James took one step in that direction and began to walk forward, away from his friends and everything that had become his life. And he didn't look back once.

* * *

"_I know I could have been a better man. I always had to have the upper hand. I'm struggling to see the better side of me. But I can't take all your jabs and taunts. You're pointing out my every fault, and you wonder why I walked away."_

-Every Avenue, Tell Me I'm a Wreck

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**If you haven't noticed by now, there will be a lot of Every Avenue song quotes because they have some really amazing music and the lyrics are often very angsty. Also, last chapter… you guys kind of worried me with the lack of reviews. I think maybe it was because it was New Year's Eve, but it kind of freaked me out. I don't mean to complain or anything, I just… I don't know. Just… please review!**


	6. How?

**Sorry for the slightly longer delay! School is going to kill me, I swear. Oh, and by the way, have I mentioned that this is looselyllooselyloosely based on a true event? Not necessarily this chapter or any of the actions that take place, but the emotions and several of the scenes have happened, especially in the first few chapters. After this it's mostly whatever my brain comes up with, with the help of all the research I've done. Just thought that you should know. :) Oh, and this chapter takes place right after James left. Just so you know. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

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"_I forgive you for the truth. I liked you better when you lied. And I forgive you being you 'cuz you were better when you faked every smile."  
_Every Avenue, I Forgive You

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Carlos couldn't move.

Logan had sunk onto the couch as though his legs couldn't possibly hold him up anymore. It seemed almost like the gravity of what James had said, no, _screamed _at them was just too much for his body to hold up. Only a few minutes after James had left he'd somehow managed to carry himself over to the couch and collapse onto it, holding his head in his hands as he struggled to remain upright. No one tried to go over and comfort him; everyone was lost in their own shocked, lost thoughts.

Kendall was leaning heavily against the wall, his eyes wide and slightly puffy. Carlos could see his lips move every once in a while, but no sound came out. At one point in the last five minutes or so he had blinked, and for a moment it had looked like he might actually have been snapping out of his shock long enough to take action and be his normal, leader-like self. But instead he'd just shaken his head as if to pull himself out of daze and leaned back against the bright wall, staring at the door as if he expected James to come back in and yell, "Just kidding!" But that didn't happen; instead, the door remained closed, slammed shut. So Kendall just continued to stare, unsure what else he could possibly do. Finally he straightened up and sent his fist flying into the plaster, ignoring the pain that lit up his hand as he closed his eyes.

But Carlos couldn't move.

Every cell in his body was screaming at him to do _something. _Go after James, get an icepack for Kendall's now bruised hand, run, jump, scream, _anything. _He couldn't just sit back and watch helplessly; he had to do something that would fix things. Standing there like a useless pile of nothing wasn't going to get them anywhere. Carlos needed to take some _action._ Anything but staying frozen on his feet like a mannequin or a zombie. But still he couldn't move.

James had… And he… But they… Carlos couldn't even form a coherent thought. How could they… How could _he _have been such a terrible friend? What mistakes could he have possibly made to push James to blow up and storm out the way he had? He had _never _seen James react with such anger, not when Kendall had gotten checked too hard in hockey and broken his arm, or when Carlos had been bullied in middle school, or when Logan had been beaten up for not doing some jerk's homework. Never, _ever_ had James reacted with such hatred and rage; in fact, after Logan, he was probably the calmest when it came to dealing with his anger. But then again, nothing like this had ever happened to him before.

How could he not have noticed something was wrong? Carlos felt like the worst human being in the world, because he _had _noticed. But he hadn't said anything. He was supposed to be one of James' best friends, one of the people who could read him like open book, but he had ignored all of the signs that James was hurting about something. He'd just figured that he'd been going through some weird faze… And that made Carlos feel worse. _That _was why James had left. He felt so weird, so out place, so_ uncared _about. He didn't realize that his quirks were exactly what made him belong in the group. But when Carlos really thought about it, whose fault was that really? Sure, James _should _have known that, but what had any of them done to prove that to him? Everyone had just assumed he'd known that, but apparently they were all wrong. Carlos wished with everything he had that they hadn't been so blind, and he fully intended to tell James how sorry he was when he came home.

Kendall's hand throbbed dully as he resumed his position against the wall, leaning against it like it was the only thing holding him up; it probably was. But none of that really registered in his mind, because he could only think of one thing at the moment: James.

Ever since the day they had met all those years ago Kendall had always seen James as confident, strong, maybe a bit cocky, but always a great person to be a friend with. Sure, there had been times when Kendall had seen his friend struggle with his faith in himself, and James had been through some truly awful things in his life, his mother's death topping the list. But he had never been the kind of person to deal out harsh words or intentionally hurt people. Despite what everyone thought, he was actually quite mature for his age, although he rarely ever showed it. He was a typical teenager, but Kendall had always known what a special person he was. James was on top of the world, and he didn't look like he ever wanted to come down. But without Kendall's realizing it, he'd been descending for who knew how long. And Kendall couldn't help but think that it was all his fault.

They had all hurt James so badly, and it was clear that even though they had never meant to, James didn't trust them. He'd suffered in silence, and none of them had ever suspected a thing; and if they had, they'd just dismissed it as nothing. How could they have done that? They were best friends, for crying out loud. All the jokes, all the pressure they had put on him. They had pushed him so hard, and when he reached his breaking point he hadn't rolled with the punches; he hit right back, and he made sure to leave bruises. And Kendall was pretty sure that they deserved every single bit of the pain.

Logan curled his fingers into his hair, tugging at it as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. This didn't make sense; how could he not have figured out what was going on sooner? He wanted to be a doctor. That meant that he had to see the bad things that were lying just below the surface. He was supposed to have a trained eye, because if you didn't catch something in the medical field it can only lead to problems. Who knew that applied to this kind of thing? Plus, as a doctor he was supposed to be more sensitive to people. There were so many things out there that required a gentle, kind attitude, despite what the people around him might be doing. Obviously Logan failed at that too. What kind of doctor would he be if he couldn't even do those things around his best friends?

But being a doctor was the last thing on Logan's mind. All he could think about was how they had messed up horrendously, and James had paid the price. All those times when they'd been doing things that Logan knew were wrong, and he could have stood up and said something about it; but he didn't. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and went along with it, even though he had to know that someone would end up getting hurt in the end. And someone had; in fact, they _all _had.

But Logan didn't want to think about those things on his own. As selfish as it seemed to him, he wanted Carlos and Kendall's company; misery loved company, after all. The silence was killing him, eating away at his mind. The air was charged, and it felt like a storm was coming. But maybe the storm had already passed; either way, the loud quietness of the room was driving Logan up the wall, and it didn't take long for him to break it. "How did this happen?"

Kendall and Carlos didn't respond. But instead of letting them lapse back into an unbearable silence like he knew they would, Logan continued on. "I mean, how could we let things get this bad? We must have done something wrong, right? James didn't just get mad at us for nothing. He wouldn't do that, right? We must have done something. I don't know how we didn't realize it, or how we didn't see that we were hurting him, but we must have, right?" He felt like a five year old, rambling and asking so many questions like he was. But he needed answers, and he didn't have any.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm _so _sorry for whatever I did. We crossed the line somewhere, and we hurt our brother in the process. How could we do that? Something must be seriously wrong because I never thought that anything like this would happen and now it has and I just don't know what to do and you guys, we…" His voice broke, effectively bringing his run-on sentence to an end as he stopped to blink back tears. Logan took a few deep, shaky breaths, trying to remain calm. "Guys…" He tried again, not sure what he wanted to say. "What are we supposed to do?"

His words seemed to have some effect, and Carlos and Kendall finally stirred, turning around slowly to face them. Logan could see so many emotions in their eyes: shock, hurt, confusion, and so many other things. And that made him feel relieved; not because he was a horrible person, although he sure felt like it at the moment. It was just a little reassuring that he wasn't the only one who was dying inside. He wasn't alone.

For a moment or so no one said anything. Kendall and Carlos moved silently towards were Logan was sitting and sank down next to him wearily. Finally Kendall leaned forward and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head slowly. "Logan… I have absolutely no idea."

Carlos tried his best to hide his dismay; Kendall didn't know what to do; Logan didn't know what to do. _He _certainly had no idea what they were supposed to do. The answer was so clear, but at the same time none of them knew how they were supposed to do it. So much had changed within less than an hour, at least for them. There was no telling how long James had been dealing with this.

"I think-" Carlos began. Logan and Kendall looked at him and he shrank back a bit, suddenly feeling unsure of himself when he saw the desperation in their eyes. But he pressed on. "I think that we… Well, obviously we did something wrong. We'd be the biggest idiots in the world if we didn't realize that. Logan, you were right. I don't know how we let things get this far without noticing or doing anything. I… _We _were bad friends. All those things we said… I know we were only joking, but I don't think that it's funny anymore." _Too little, too late, _he thought bitterly. But he didn't say that. Instead, he said, "We messed up, big time. But I think we can fix this. I don't know how exactly, but there has to be a way, right? We've always gotten through hard things before. We can do it again. I know it."

Kendall nodded, taking over as Carlos became silent again. "Carlos is right. I mean, we've been through a lot together, both good and bad." _Never anything this bad, though. _"We can't just throw all that away. There has to be _something _we can do to fix this, right?

"I'm not sure how, but we can at least tell James that we're sorry when he comes home. Obviously he… blames us for a lot of things." At his words all three of them visibly blanched, but Kendall pushed on. "I don't know how bad of friends we've been, but we haven't been the greatest. We just have to accept that and move on. Right now what we need to worry about is _not _being like that again, and helping James. Because guys… You saw how much pain he was in. I don't know about you- Actually, I _do _know, and I know that none of us _ever _want to see someone we love in that kind of pain again. No one deserves to suffer like that, and we have to make sure that he knows that, and that we'll always be there for him." The others nodded in agreement. "I just hope he can forgive us," Logan whispered.

There wasn't much else they could do but wait. James was probably blowing off steam somewhere, and there was no telling when he would get back. But he _would _be back by the end of the night; if he didn't, Mrs. Knight would have his head. And it wasn't like there was anything else he could do. James was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. At least, that's what Kendall, Carlos, and Logan kept telling themselves.

All of them watched the clock, ignoring the feeling of dread in their hearts as the minutes ticked by, slowly turning into hours. They passed it off as discomfort; after all, they were missing one piece of the puzzle. Three was supposedly the "magic number" but when you're so used to four, it just feels awkward and _wrong. _But that problem would be fixed soon; James would come home, and they would work things out, and everything would be okay again. It just had to be.

But after two and a half hours of waiting, it finally began to become clear to them. They didn't know for sure, but in their hearts they somehow just _knew _that it was true. And they hated themselves for knowing that James didn't have any intention of coming home anytime soon, and that it was all their fault.

* * *

"_If you run away now, will you come back around? And if you ran away, I'd still wave goodbye, watching you shine bright."  
_-Paramore, Brighter

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**Um, yeah. They didn't realize that anything was wrong until the very end (and by wrong I mean what James is planning on doing). But granted, most people would give it a little time. So you know. I felt that this chapter also felt a little bit repetitive, and forced. I probably rushed it a little because by the time I started writing it I was already later than I would have liked. I'm not sure, but maybe you guys are! :) Reviews?**


	7. Calls

**Did you know that they have a Tribute to Big Time Rush magazine? Like, ¾ of the magazine is all BTR. It's AMAZING. I now have a bunch more BTR posters. I think it's from a magazine called Faces, or something like that. I just felt like I should share this with you all so that one, you could get it, and two, you would be too busy loving the magazine to hate me for being so late. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush.**

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"_I've been losing my mind, I've been living a lie, I've been running away for so long. I try to put on a face and cover my heart, but I'm needing it now, so bad."  
_-Lesley Roy, Thinking Out Loud

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Los Angeles wasn't known for its high crime rate; there were murders and burglaries and countless other horrendous acts, but that wasn't uncommon for a big city, or just a city in general. During the day you would most likely be pretty safe, as long as you avoided dark allies. Most criminals are pretty smart when it comes to hiding out and avoiding the law, and the majority of them won't try to do anything in broad daylight. But this was _night. _This was their time to come out without having to worry as much about getting arrested since they had the cover of darkness to hide them. James knew this, and he also knew that he _was _in an alley. If things could have been any less safe he would have been dead, because he was putting himself in one of the most dangerous situations possible.

James knew all of this, and although he didn't care about a lot of things at the moment, he still cared about whether he lived or died. And he _really _didn't want to die. So he tried his best to swallow his fear and made his way further into downtown L.A., using every bit of willpower he could muster not to jump and run away screaming at every shadow that loomed over him or every little sound that echoed around him. It wasn't easy; in fact, it was on the opposite end of the spectrum. That little voice in James' head was still telling him to pack up and go home before he got himself killed. It was a great idea, but James didn't want to go home. No amount of fear could ever make him do that.

Suddenly he heard something crashing, like pots and pans, while something in his pocket simultaneously vibrated. James jumped, his heart rate skyrocketing as his breathing hitched. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was only his phone, and even then he couldn't get himself to calm down. He mentally cursed Carlos for changing his ringtone again. The Latino always loved to steal the other boys' phones and give them the loudest, most obnoxious ringtone he could find. None of them had ever really cared, but now James couldn't help but be annoyed. But maybe that had something to do with that fact that he'd nearly had a heart attack.

James fumbled around in his pocket, searching for his phone while looking around nervously. All the noise he was making was bound to attract some attention, but he was _really _hoping that it wouldn't. He pulled out his phone and immediately held his finger down on the volume button, relaxing slightly as the night turned quiet again. He looked down at the screen, frowning slightly. The words "Call from: Kendall" lit up, disappearing suddenly as the vibrating stopped and Kendall was sent to voicemail.

Sure enough, a voicemail appeared a few moments later. James looked at it, debating on whether or not he should call back, or at the very least listen to what Kendall had said. Before he could decide, though, it started buzzing again, this time with a call from Logan.

James glanced at the screen one more time before sliding the phone back into his pocket, ignoring the buzz. Soon enough it went away, and he was graced with a few seconds of silence. Then, naturally, it went off again. James didn't even have to look to know that this time it was Carlos calling him. But he still didn't answer it; he was afraid of what he would say.

Every time he opened his mouth he hurt someone else; every time he kept his mouth shut he hurt himself. He really couldn't win no matter what he did. But he'd noticed that when he _did _open his mouth and told his friends how he felt, he ended up getting hurt in the end there too. He really and truly didn't want to hurt his friends anymore, and every way he looked at it he would end up doing that. So he chose the path that would hopefully end with at least him not getting hurt, because James just couldn't take getting hurt anymore than he already had. It would kill him.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Kendall, Carlos, and Logan wouldn't agree with anything he was saying. The number of times they had called him in the past five minutes was proof enough; calling a person seventeen times sends a message. James sighed as his phone began to vibrate once again, trying to shut out the noise.

As he walked along it went off again, and again, and again and it just seemed to get louder, and louder, and louder. Didn't they get that he was trying to _avoid _talking to them? Didn't they realize that if he wanted to talk to them then he would have answered them on the first call? Granted, they could have thought that he was dying in an alley somewhere. But if that were the case, wouldn't they have been out looking for him instead? In fact, why weren't they out looking for him anyway? Did they not care enough to leave the apartment to find him?

To James, that was a stupid question. Of course they didn't. He was lucky to even be getting a phone call. His phone continued to buzz in his pocket, and it was beginning to drive him insane. He pulled it out of his pocket again, huffing in frustration as he lit up the screen. There were two emails, probably from Logan since he was the only one who ever used it, twenty one text messages, and thirty four missed calls from the past half hour. James stared at the screen in disbelief; they were _really _persistent. But he didn't care. He still didn't want to talk to them. And even if that made him the most selfish person in the world, he wouldn't talk to them until he was ready.

Even as he continued to stare at the little screen his phone continued to go off, flooding his voicemail and inbox. They should have been seen as how much Kendall, Carlos, and Logan cared about him; but he didn't. In fact, he didn't think about what it meant at all. He felt blinded by his pain and confusion, and frustrated that they wouldn't just leave him alone. That was all he wanted, was time to just think to himself without other people jumping in on his thoughts. He remembered seeing a poster one time that said, "Solitude is good for the soul." If that were the case then he must have one of the worst souls in the world, assuming he still had a soul. If he hadn't been in so much pain he might have questioned if he did or not.

James couldn't take the near constant buzz for another second. Before he even realized what he was doing he threw his phone on the ground with a strength he didn't even know he possessed and slammed his foot down on the little device. He lifted his put up over and over again, bringing it down with as much force as he could muster. When he was done all that was left was a small pile of broken glass, bent metal, and twisted wire.

The silence was much welcomed. James was breathing heavily and for the first time he realized that he was crying again. He blinked furiously, trying to calm himself down. On the positive side, the buzzing had stopped, and it was surprisingly relaxing to be able to just stand there in silence. And besides, he highly doubted he would have any use of it in the near future.

He had already made up his mind. Going back… It was out of the question, at least for now. He just needed some time away from everyone. He knew _exactly _how stupid he was being; despite what everyone thought, he was actually a pretty smart guy. James was completely aware that what he was doing was the second dumbest thing he'd ever done. But the first one, in his mind, was allowing himself to suffer in silence for so long. Going back to that would be foolish, and this time around James didn't have any doubts that he wouldn't make it through. He couldn't go back to all that. He just couldn't.

James searched through his pockets, mentally making an inventory of everything he had with him. He wasn't sure what he would need, but he doubted he had it all. In his jacket pocket was his wallet, but he only had twenty dollars in cash with him. His front left pocket was empty, since that was where he had kept his phone, and then in his right pocket was his lucky comb.

James pulled it out and simply stared at it. Kendall had given it to him for his tenth birthday as a joke, but James had kept it and used it ever since. When he and his mom had met Jeremy Stevenson, James' favorite Minnesota Wild player _ever, _at the supermarket, it was because of his lucky comb. When James got a solo in their middle school choir concert, it was because of his lucky comb. When their hockey team beat Duluth for the first time in six years during their freshman year, it was because James had used his lucky comb right before he went onto the ice. Whether it was stupid or not, James had always considered the comb lucky.

But how lucky had it really been? Not long after his mother had killed herself. He'd still gotten bad grades and lost hockey games. He'd failed the audition with Gustavo. He'd hurt his best friends after nearly destroying himself in the process. How was that lucky?

In reality, the "lucky" in his comb was just an excuse to carry the piece of plastic around. It could be seen like a security blanket, if one looked at it that way, but it had never really brought good luck to him. In a way, it was something that he carried around to please everyone else; he'd been told countless times that his lucky comb was one of the things that made him who he was. Good looks were his thing, and the lucky comb was his _symbol. _Clearly they didn't remember his nerd year in seventh grade, two years _after _he'd gotten the comb. But according to everyone around him, that comb was a part of him. James continued to stare at the little piece of black plastic in his hand, feeling all emotion drain from him until he was just an empty shell. And then, in one quick motion, he'd snapped it in half. If it was truly a part of him, shouldn't it be broken too?

James didn't even care about the comb anymore. He didn't care about _anything. _Nothing mattered anymore except getting away. With a glazed look in his eyes, James let the two pieces fall out of his hand. He didn't see it hit the ground; he had already turned and continued on his way, taking himself further away from everything that he'd once considered his home.

And with that one small action he took the first step on turning his back on the old James Diamond.

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"_I am going away for a while, but I'll be back, don't try and follow me. 'Cuz I'll return as soon as possible. See, I'm trying to find my place, and it might not be here where I feel safe."  
_-Paramore, Misguided Ghosts

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**You guys. I am SO sorry for being so late. This week has just been incredibly crazy. Between midterms and homework and volleyball and my birthday I thought I might die. Hopefully this next week things will get less busy and this won't happen again. But I'm still really, really sorry about this. Forgiveness?**


	8. On His Own

**Hey look, I'm… slightly less late than I was before! Hooray… -dead- Seriously though. I actually wrote the second part of this chapter first because I've been sick and it, uh… Well, I was looking forward to it the most. So there we go. Also, apparently there are two different Tributes to Big Time Rush. WHAT? Yeah. I found this out the other day. Mind blown. I love it. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

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"_Don't just turn and walk away. I can learn from my mistakes. Don't throw everything away. You see right through me, 'cause you're running away. You keep turning your back on me. I tried so hard. But you're running away."  
_-Three Days Grace, Running Away

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Logan had never felt so useless in his whole life. For the life of him he couldn't figure out what they were supposed to do. He'd seen lots of things about people running away, but most of them had said that the person who ran away would most likely come back on their own. He didn't know what to do when that person _didn't _come back. Because somehow he just knew that James wasn't coming back, not anytime soon anyway.

None of them had any idea what they should do. On the one hand, they could be totally overreacting, and James could walk in any minute and tell them that he had just needed some time to cool down. That was what they were all hoping for, but how realistic was it? It was more likely that… Well, that's where things got a little bit fuzzy. All they knew was that they really didn't believe that James was coming home.

"Boys?" The three of them jumped as the front door opened and Mrs. Knight's voice filled the apartment. "What are you doing up so late? It's nearly three in the morning!" Kendall's mother and sister soon appeared in view, both of them looking tired. "Sorry we got home so late, but Katie's audition ran really late, and it was on the other side of town. We- Boys? Is everything all right?"

Leave it to a mother to notice that something's wrong right off the back. The boys looked at each other uneasily, shame and guilt shining in their eyes. "Mom, we…" Kendall trailed off, unsure of what he was supposed to say. The apartment lapsed into an uncomfortable silence as the boys' legal guardian looked at them, waiting for an answer. "What did you do?" she asked gently. When no one answered her her face softened even more, concerned more than anything else. "Boys, whatever it is can't possibly be that bad. You know you can tell me anything."

Still no one answered her. It _could _be that bad. Absolutely it could. And even though they all knew that they would have to tell her one way or another, none of them really had the desire to so. Fortunately, Katie seemed to notice what was off about the room. "Where's James?"

At the mention of their friend's name all three of their eyes filled with tears. Mrs. Knight noticed this immediately and her concern quickly turned into full blown worry. "Guys? Where is James?" None of the boys could bring themselves to look at her. The woman's face paled and she took a step forward, standing right in front of them. "Boys, if something's wrong with James you need to tell me. Where is he?"

Somehow Logan found the strength to lift his head and shrug his shoulders, but his voice failed him. Mrs. Knight turned on him. "What does _this _mean?" she asked, mimicking his shrug. Logan opened his mouth and then closed it, unsure of how to answer him. Fortunately, Carlos was there to jump in. He had made it his new resolution to have his friends' back no matter what from now on. Too little, too late. But he was there for Logan this time, and that made him a little bit better. But once he opened his mouth any good feelings he had were swept away. "We don't know."

Mrs. Knight frowned and looked from each of their faces. "You don't _know_? What do you mean you don't know? You boys should have been here at the Palm Woods all night. Where could he be?" Her voice was sharp, worry for her fourth son shutting out any kinder tone she could have used. "We-" Kendall shrank back as his mother whipped her head around and stared at him. "We… had a little, uh… fight-" Understatement of the year. "-and James, uh… He…" The blond gestured towards the door, unable to find the words to finish his sentence.

"He…" Mrs. Knight followed Kendall's hand and her eyes widened ever so slightly. "Did he…" The looks on the boys' faces were answer enough. She closed her eyes, resisting the urge to scream and panic. "Okay, okay… When did he leave?" Kendall, Carlos, and Logan looked at each other guiltily. "Um, I don't know, maybe…" Logan glanced at the clock, cringing when he saw that it was indeed almost three in the morning. "Six or seven hours ago?"

The woman's eyes couldn't have gotten any bigger. "Six or seven- Why didn't you call me!" Mrs. Knight didn't wait for their answer, and instead went straight for the kitchen, grabbing the cordless phone from its home. She punched in a few numbers and then waited, pulling at her hair impatiently. Another voice could be dimly heard on the other end, and she answered almost immediately. "Yes, I'd like to report a missing boy."

The boys listened as Mrs. Knight spoke to the 911 operator, unable to control their shaking anymore. The call made it so real, so official: James had run away.

Katie was still standing in the doorway, tears filling her eyes as she stared at her brother and his friends in disbelief. "Why would he leave?" she whispered. The boys cringed at all the emotions in her voice; shock, anger, confusion. "What could have possibly been bad enough to make him run away from us?" Carlos covered his mouth to hold back the sob, making a horrible choking noise. "What happened, guys?" The youngest Knight's voice cracked on the last answer, but her questions were met by silence.

How were they supposed to tell her that they were the reason James felt he couldn't be around anyone? What could they say? That they had been complete and utter idiots? That they had made the biggest mistakes of their lives, and James had suffered because of it? That they had no idea how they could have been so stupid? All of the above would have worked, but they couldn't tell Katie that.

They couldn't tell her that this was all their fault.

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James continued on his way down the streets of L.A., shivering in the cool, damp air. The city's humidity level was absolutely horrible, and judging by how charged the air felt he was pretty sure that it was getting ready to rain. That would just be the icing on the cake to his day. The past twenty four hours had been more exhausting than James had believed humanly possible, and he wanted nothing more than to lay down somewhere and fall asleep.

He really needed to figure out his next move before he collapsed from exhaustion. Not only had this been one of the longest days of his life, but on top of that he'd hardly gotten any sleep throughout the whole week. He only had twenty dollars in his pocket, and the only other way he could come into some money was by going back to the apartment. And there was _no way _that was happening. So obviously staying at a hotel was out of the question. That didn't leave him with many options, except to sleep outside. And if it was going to rain…

As if the weather was reading his mind, the sky suddenly opened up, sending down sheets of rain. James cursed, pulling his jacket hood over his head and running down the sidewalk. It did no good, however, and within minutes he was soaked to the bone. He wasn't sure what time it was, but it was definitely very early in the morning. No shops or buildings would be open, so there was no place for him to duck inside to avoid the harsh weather. His footsteps slowed and James slowly came to a standstill, sighing. This was going to be a _lot _harder than he'd thought.

James shoved his hands inside his pockets and ducked his head miserably. The rain only made it seem darker, and it was nearly impossible to see the nearby streetlights. But on the bright side, he thought to himself, at least the miserable conditions probably meant that anyone else who might be lurking around couldn't see him. The idea made him feel a tiny bit safer, and he continued on down the street with a slightly lifted heart, feeling the tiniest bit better. But the smallest comfort was enough for him, and he managed to convince himself that he would be okay, at least for the moment. James was able to hold onto this idea right up until the point when he was grabbed from the side.

The rain was blinding, so he never saw it coming. He didn't even realize he was passing an alley until two pairs of hands suddenly reached out, grabbing him by the arms and dragging him off the street. James didn't even have time to scream before he was shoved against the wall and something was pressed against his neck, cold and sharp. A knife. His breathing picked up, and it was all he could do not to jump forward and try to run away. If he did he would probably die. So instead he swallowed hard and took deep, almost labored breaths, waiting to see what would happen next.

"Don't say a word and you _might _not get hurt." The voice came from off to the side, and James could just barely make out a figure to his right, but he couldn't turn his head to see who had spoken. He tried to nod, but the knife was only pressed closer to his neck. "Don't move." James froze. A small part of him was hoping that if he just did what they asked they would let him go without hurting him. Because with the great luck he'd had that day that was just bound to happen. Not.

The rain continued to pour down around them, but James suppressed a shudder, remaining perfectly still. "Give us any money you got," the voice said. James noticed that although the voice was gruff and low, it sounded almost fake, like the guy was trying to sound intimidating. And what was more, he sounded pretty young, probably not too much older than James himself. But he didn't say any of this; instead, he opened his mouth, trying to explain. "Look, I don't have that much money," he said, his voice tense and shaky. "Really, I don't, I-" He broke off in a small gasp as the blade was pressed harder, nicking the skin. A small amount of blood ran down his neck, but it was enough to send him into a full blown panic.

His whole body began to tremble, and he forced himself to take deep breaths, closing his eyes as though he were trying to pretend that this _wasn't _happened, and that he _wasn't _going to die. The voice spoke again. "Don't test us. You came from the Hollywood part of town; you have to have _some _kind of money on you. Now don't make me ask again," he warned, voice low and menacing. James winced and slowly moved his hand to his pocket, making sure that everyone could see what he was doing. The knife pressed down dangerously, but the pressure eased up a bit when they saw that he was only taking out his wallet. Within a second it had been snatched from his hand, and James allowed himself to release the breath he didn't even know he'd been holding.

Another voice, this one to his left, yelled out in rage. "Twenty bucks! What is this going to do? Felix, you said this guy would have some real money on him!" The other voice, Felix, spoke again in annoyance. "Shut up, Tod! It was Will's plan, and anyway, this guy is probably just holding out on us. Is that right, pretty boy?" He turned back to James, glaring at him cruelly.

James opened his mouth to explain, to try and make them understand, but before he could get the words out the knife was pulled away and someone had grabbed him by the hair, slamming his head back against the brick. "Don't lie," Felix snarled. "But I don't-" James was cut off once again as a fist swung out at him from the side, knocking all the wind out of his stomach. "He said not to lie," the guy holding him sneered, moving his arm so that it was pressed firmly against James windpipe.

James gasped as his air supply was suddenly cut off, throwing all caution to the wind as he began to struggle. The cut on his neck burned under the pressure, but the only thing he could focus on was the fact that he couldn't _breathe. _His vision blurred and he felt his struggling getting weaker. His head was swimming and he was on the brink of passing out when Felix's sharp voice barked a command and the pressure was suddenly gone. "Kirk!"

James gasped for oxygen as he could suddenly breathe again, and he probably would have fallen over if Kirk hadn't still had a tight grip on his hair. "If he's not going to give it to us willingly, we'll just have to take it," Felix said. Before James even know what was happening he was pulled forward and shoved to the ground, and suddenly he felt hands all over him. He closed his eyes and bit back a whimper, his heart leaping to his throat as a million horrible scenarios ran through his mind. But fortunately, just as soon as the hands appeared they were gone. "He really doesn't have any money," yet another voice said quietly. This voice was quieter and sounded a bit kinder than the others, but there was still that harsh edge to it.

James didn't move from where he was on the ground, so he didn't see Felix's face twist into a frown. The gang leader snapped his fingers, and without having to be told two guys grabbed James by the arms and yanked him to his feet. Felix moved so that his and James' faces were inches apart. "So that's really all you have, pretty boy?" James cringed at the nickname. If he had a nickel for every time someone called him that… But he didn't say anything; he didn't want to risk making them angrier.

Felix paused and looked at James for the first time. "You're new to the streets, aren't you?" The annoyance was replaced by amusement, and the guys all laughed as James looked around uneasily. "You are, aren't you? What are you doing out here, pretty boy? Parents cut off your credit card? Girlfriend turn out to be a tramp?" James stared at him, not sure how to respond. Did people really run away for reasons that stupid? He remained silent, afraid that his answer would be wrong. Unfortunately, silence was a bad choice, and the laughter soon left Felix's eyes.

"When I ask you something, you answer. Got it?" James nodded, too paralyzed with fear to do anything else. Felix nodded, then shot out his fist, sending James stumbling backward. "Use your big boy words," he growled.

James swallowed hard and closed his eyes. _Inhale... exhale... inhale... exhale... Just breathe, James… _Forget getting stabbed or beaten. The apprehension was going to kill him before this gang ever got the chance. "Okay," he whispered. He didn't have to open his eyes to see that they were all laughing. "So, pretty boy. Is that really all the money you have to give us?" James was a smart guy; he learned his lesson after the first time, and he didn't make the same mistake twice. "Yes, that's really all I have. I only-" He nearly sank to his knees as a fist came into contact with his stomach _again. _He moaned in pain, feeling bruises already forming across his abdomen. "Let me rephrase that," Felix said, grabbing James by the chin and forcing the boy to look at him. "Are you going to get us some more money?"

James stared at him helplessly. How was he supposed to answer that? The only way he could possibly get them any more money was if he went back to the apartment, and there was no way he was going to do that. And even if he did, he certainly wasn't going to come back and give them money. What exactly was he supposed to do? If he _didn't _get them money they would beat him up and probably kill him. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, or rather, between fists and knives. Either way, he was stuck. And things were _not _looking good for him.

"Um, well, you see, I…" One look at their faces told James that he'd made the wrong move, and this time he was going to suffer from it. Felix snapped his fingers once, and the grips on James' arms tightened while everyone else formed a tight circle around him. Felix stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. James winced at the sound. "I guess we'll just have to teach you a little lesson on answering questions, won't we?" Felix cocked his fist back and got ready to swing. James closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to come.

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James whimpered as another foot came into contact with his stomach, followed by a fist slamming into his head, and his chest, and every other inch of his body. He'd lost track of time long ago; God, why couldn't they just stop already? Couldn't they just leave him to die? It wasn't like he deserved anything less. Another foot, this one glad in a boot, launched itself at his back, and he gasped in agony as pain lit up his spine. He tried to curl himself into a tighter ball, but the blows continued to rain down on him in an endless torrent of pain.

He heard someone say something from off to the side, but he couldn't quite make out what it was. His vision was starting to blur, and he was just barely holding onto consciousness. He heard feet shuffling from all around him, and then suddenly he was being yanked to his feet and forced against a wall. He couldn't' stop the cry that escaped his lips as his abused body came into contact with the brick, and he would have fallen over right then if Felix hadn't been holding him up by his arms.

"We let you off easy this time, kid," he hissed, glaring at James with cruel eyes. "Next time we won't be so nice. In fact, if I were you I would make sure you didn't cross our path again, because I can guarantee you that next time, you _will not _make it out of here alive. You hearing me?" James' head lolled weakly against the wall, and it took all of his effort to simply keep his eyes open. Felix's eyes narrowed and he grabbed James by the collar, shoving him harder against the wall. "I thought we'd been over this before," he snarled. "When I ask you something, _you answer me._" He pulled him by his shirt and slammed him into the ground, not even flinching when James' head came into contact with the ground with a sickening _smack._

"Let's get out of here," he said, and without another word the gang turned and walked down the alley, as if nothing had happened, as if they _hadn't _just a left a boy to die. They didn't even look back to see if James would survive the night, or if he was even still alive.

And so the singer was left in the middle of the alley, eyes closed and unmoving.

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_"Make this go away, I'm begging please. There's little life left here for me to bleed."_  
-Lifehouse, Near Life Experience 

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**So here was the ending _without _the OC, and I am so so so so so happy that I decided to do this. Literally as soon as I decided to take him out and rewrite the chapters I'd done that had him in it, my writer's block just disappeared, and I am so excited to write this again. Of course, I'm an idiot and have two other fics in progress right now, but hopefully I'll be able to manage all three and get some updates out soon. Love you all!**


	9. Fault

**Dear incredibly mean anonymous reviewer(s): If you don't have something nice or constructive to say, please just don't review at all. I'm not sure why you feel the need to make people feel bad about what they write, but I'm sad that you think that it's okay, because it's not. To all the nice anonymous reviewers, I'm sorry, but I'm disabling anonymous reviewing. Nothing personal or anything, I still love you all, but I don't want to risk getting another review like the one I got. Thanks for understanding.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

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"_What would you say if I told you that all I thought about is you since you've been gone? I wish someway, somehow I could turn this world right back around and mend mistakes I've made."  
_-Between the Trees, We Can Try

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Silence didn't suit the bright colors of 2J. The blue walls, orange couch, yellow swirly slide: the colors were vibrant and lively, usually mirroring the boys' personalities perfectly. To anyone who came into the apartment, it was like every inch of it was screaming, "Let's have fun!" It looked like it was supposed to be _loud _and _exciting. _But it wasn't. It was as though when James had left, he'd taken all the life with him.

The police had been by the hour before, assuring Mrs. Knight and the boys that they would have people out. They couldn't, however, assure them that James would be found quickly, especially since none of them were sure where he could be. Other people at the Palm Woods had testified that they saw him leave, but he'd never come back, and the security cameras further proved it. The police had tried looking at surveillance footage of the buildings near the apartment complex, but that had only lasted up until the point when James had turned into an alley. There was no footage after that, much to the panic of the boys and their guardian.

One of the officers, Henry Gais, had told them that they would do whatever they could to get the missing boy home safe and sound, and to keep their hopes up. But they had all seen the sadness in the man's eyes. He _knew _that something had happened to drive James away, and he also knew that if he survived the time he was on the streets, there would be a lot for everyone to work out if he came home. _If. _Gais had been on the LAPD for nearly nine years now, and the word never got any easier to say. And unfortunately in the cases of many runaways, "if" often meant "never." Seeing the pain in everyone's eyes, the officer hoped to God that this time, "if" could be a "when."

Now Logan was lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with blank, tear filled eyes. Katie had long since locked herself in her room, but her crying had been heard by all for a good hour before she'd quieted down and drifted off to sleep. Mrs. Knight had forbidden any of the boys from going out to search for James on their own. All three of them had tried to argue, but when the woman had yelled at them and then nearly started crying, they had let it go. Over the last hour or so, everything in the apartment had just… died. No one spoke. No one moved. Logan actually found himself looking up a few times, just to make sure Carlos and Kendall were still breathing.

Kendall's mother had tried convincing them to get some sleep, but there was no way that was going to happen. As exhausted as all of them were, there was no way any of them would sleep peacefully knowing that James could be out there, hurt or _dying, _because of the things they'd said. They were all on edge, silently hoping that the door would open and James would walk in, happy and carefree like he should be. Carlos was even sitting in a chair in front of the door, just so in case James _did _walk in he would be the first to hug him. But the door remained firmly shut, and they all felt their hope dwindling.

Logan remembered a project his English class had been assigned back in ninth grade. Each student was assigned an issue that was present in the lives of many Americans. One kid got jobs, as a result of the economy; another got small businesses; others got diseases and illnesses, such as cancer, diabetes, and asthma. There were many other medical ones, and secretly Logan had been wishing to get one of those, because his dream of becoming a doctor was very much alive, and learning about an major disease could only help him in his studies. Instead, though, when the teacher had come around with the hat full of little pieces of paper, he'd been given a completely different topic than the one he'd been hoping for: Teenage runaways.

It was an incredibly sad topic. He'd learned that one in seven children between the ages of 10 and 18 will run away. Some of them come home after a few days, and some of them never return. Females were likely to return faster than males. Most kids stayed out on the streets from a month to a _year, _and most of the time when they ran away they hadn't planned it_._ Logan could tell you right off the back that between 1 and 1.5 million kids run away from home _each year, _and that more than five thousand of them would be killed by assault, illness, or suicide. It had seemed like a small fraction of the kids who ran away were killed, but when one of those people was your best friends, it seemed huge. What if James was one of those five thousand?

Sometimes Logan really hated that he was so smart and able to retain so much information. Back then, he'd sympathized like any decent human being would, but it had never been a big deal to him. According to his research, some kids ran away because they had abusive parents, or maybe they had some other horrible thing going on in their lives. For others, it was because they felt unloved by their friends, their family, and just _everyone_ in general. And then there were the kids who ran away because they were afraid of owning up to a bad decision they'd made or facing something, whether it was bullying or drugs or some other problem. Logan had felt bad for these kids, but he'd never paid much attention to it. No one he knew had ever felt like that, nor would they ever as long as he was a good friend to them. And yet, here they were now. What did that say about him?

He should have noticed. That was the only thing Logan could think about. He should have seen that James was struggling and needed their help, _his _help. The research he'd done less than two years ago had _given _him the signs that people needed to look for to prevent their loved ones from running away. Sleeping changes, personality changes, withdrawal from family and friends, school problems. With the exception of the last one, James had been displaying _all _of the signs. Logan put his hands over his face, massaging his temple. He should have noticed.

And even if he hadn't remembered the signs, he should have recognized that something was off. They'd been friends for eleven years, and they literally lived with each other, not to mention work with the band. Research or not, James had been acting strange all week, and one them should have noticed sooner. Especially him.

Logan felt like he was going to be sick. This was all his fault. He wasn't entirely sure if he'd made any actual jokes. Maybe a few sarcastic words here and there, but surely he couldn't have said anything that bad, right? But he'd thought the same thing with Kendall and Carlos, and obviously James had taken everything they said to heart more than they intended to. Whether he'd been the actual problem or not, he'd gone along with it the entire time.

He _knew _how wrong it was, too. That was the thing that was bothering him the most. Even though he hadn't picked up on how much they were hurting James, he'd _known _that what they were saying wasn't right. He'd felt it in his heart, with his conscience, but _still _he'd gone along with it. And James had been the one to pay the price.

Logan would never be able to forget the look on James' face right before he'd stormed out. His eyes had been filled with disbelief, and pain, and confusion, and betrayal, and so much _rage_. And it was because of all of the things they'd said and done. They'd pushed him to the brink, and now that Logan thought about it, they were _so _lucky that he'd only run away. That didn't sound right to say, but when Logan thought about the alternative that James easily could have chosen. Running away was one of the worst possible things he could have done, but at least they had hope that they would see him again. If he'd chosen the same path as his mom…

Logan shuddered involuntarily, wrapping his arms around his stomach. What if James had decided just to completely end it? What if he'd come to the conclusion that he didn't have anything to live for, so he just _wouldn't_? They could have lost him in the blink of an eye, and they never would have seen it coming. He hadn't, thank the Lord, but if he had… Logan bit his lip hard as tears spilled out of his eyes, barely noticing when his teeth drew blood. "Oh god…" he whispered.

They'd come so close. They'd come _this _close to losing him forever. It was a miracle they hadn't; whatever James had been going through, it obviously hadn't been easy on him. The lack of sleep, the way he barely ate anything, how he'd become a shell… Logan's breathing hitched and it took every ounce of strength he had not to break down. This was what they'd done. This was what they'd done _to James. _This… How could they have done this? How could they have been such bad friends and made such huge mistakes and… and…

Logan lost it. The second the first sob tore from his throat, there was no stopping. His whole body shook violently as tears streamed down his face, blinding him. Kendall moved wordlessly from where he was sitting on the other side of the couch while Carlos got up from his position by the door, and within seconds Logan felt himself caught between them in a hug. But that only made him cry harder; he didn't deserve a hug. James did. And he was the only one who couldn't have one and it was all Logan's fault.

Kendall and Carlos didn't seem to know exactly what to say, but Logan was glad. No words could make him feel better. Instead, he buried his head in Kendall's shirt, crying hysterically. He didn't deserve to be the one crying; everything that was happening could have been avoided if he'd just been a little bit more caring, a little bit nicer. But he hadn't, and he now there was no stopping the tears.

He could vaguely hear Carlos and Kendall trying to shush him, assuring him that James would be okay and that everything would work out. But they were lying. James wasn't okay. Whether he was physically hurt Logan couldn't be sure, but there was no getting around the fact that in many ways, James had been in a lot of pain and he still was. And if James wasn't okay, there was _no way _they were going to be okay. He was the fourth piece of the puzzle, and a puzzle without one piece just doesn't work. They _needed _him. But he wasn't there.

James. Logan wanted to go find him so badly. Maybe if he hadn't smashed his phone, they would have had a better chance. But the phone had obviously been destroyed, either by James himself or… No. It had to be James. The other alternative could mean that… And he couldn't… But Logan knew all too well that he could be. He knew better than anyone that James was in so much danger at the moment that it almost gave Logan a heart attack just thinking about it.

James had morals, and more importantly, pride. Logan was confident that he wouldn't sink down to the level that some people got to out on the streets. But there was only so much he could control, and some things if James started, he wouldn't be able to stop. He'd seen countless stories of kids who had gotten into drugs and alcohol after running away. It only takes one time to get addicted, and James could probably find someone to sell it to him all over the place on the streets. Logan hoped that he would have more sense than that. He just had to be.

But there were so many other things that James physically would not be able to get out of if he wasn't careful. People got mugged, kidnapped, raped, murdered. Logan would just be kidding himself if he said that James couldn't be one of those people. Of course he could; _anyone _could. With the luck that they had been having lately, James could… Logan's sobs picked up again, and his friends tightened their hold around him. He could feel them shaking too, but he couldn't bring himself to seriously think about anyone other than James. It was as though he was lost in his own little world; his own personal _nightmare._ And he couldn't escape.

L.A. wasn't the most dangerous city by any means, but it was still big and full of horrible people. The chances of him surviving and getting out of everything, unharmed, were slim to none, and as much as he hated it, Logan couldn't say that it was anything else. Unless James had some secret street life, he was going to get himself hurt if he didn't have help. And what were the chances of that happening? James had been lucky; they all had up until that point. But they knew all too well that everyone's luck runs out at some point. Logan only hoped that that time would be when James was back home, in the safety of the Palm Woods with his friends.

There were so many things Logan found himself worrying about. What if James resorted to stealing to survive? What if he didn't watch his back carefully enough? What if he made _one _mistake, did _one _stupid thing, and then they never saw him again? What if he starved? What if he got sick and didn't get help in time? What if someone attacked him and left him for dead? What if he died thinking that his friends hated him?

What if? Put together, those two words made up the most agonizing question Logan had ever asked. There were too many questions. He needed to know that James would be okay, and that they would see him again, safe and sound. That was all Logan could even think of asking for at the moment. Anything else would have been pushing it, and he knew it. All he truly wanted at the moment was to see James again and fix things. If- _When _James came home, Logan was going to set things right, even if James couldn't forgive them. He just needed James to know that he was sorry.

Logan still couldn't stop crying. He wanted to so bad; it was actually hurting him to cry now. His chest was burning and he found himself gasping and choking, unable to breathe past the tears and the sobs. He knew he should probably ask Kendall and Carlos to let up a bit with the hug, but he couldn't; he didn't _want _to. He needed them; he needed all of his friends. He needed James.

The apartment was completely silent except for the sound of the three boys crying. Every time Logan thought he was finally calming down, he was sent into another round of sobbing. It just wouldn't end. The pain he felt in his heart was nearly unbearable. Was this how James had felt? Was it possible that he'd somehow felt _worse_? Logan hoped on everything he had that he hadn't, because he'd been dealing with everything without the support of his other friends like Logan had now, and no one deserved this kind of pain. Especially when the cause was the person's best friends.

Tremors shook Logan's body as he struggled to rein in his emotions. He was a mess. Here he was, feeling sorry for himself, and there really wasn't anything else he could do. Mrs. Knight had made that perfectly clear, and Logan was furious over it. _They _should be the ones out there looking for their missing friend. They could at least do that for him.

After all, if anything happened to him, they were the ones to blame.

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"_Does it help to say I'm sorry? If so than I'm sorry that you're so unhappy. This life, those lies are starting to get you down. Darling don't let them drag you around. Saying it's my fault doesn't help repeated. Time, love, and Jesus seems to beat it."  
_-Between the Trees, A Time for Yohe

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**Man I love Between the Trees. And Logan angst. :) Just so you know, every fact and statistic that was in here was actual, real things that I found online while I researched for this. And guys, I hope you realize that even with all the things I'm going to**** write in this, for most runaways what I'm putting in here is just **_**skimming **_**the surface. I'm being perfectly serious when I say that. So on that happy note, I hope I didn't depress you guys to much. Logan isn't taking any of this too well, is he? None of them are. Please review!**


	10. Demons

**Last chapter was crap so here's this one. That's all I have to say for now, except I love you guys! :) Oh yeah, and this is the thirteenth chapter. Unlucky thirteen ooooh! Actually, I'll let you be the judge of how lucky James is. Hahaaa.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush**

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"_This is your time to weep. This is your time to mourn. Not yet time to build up, just a time to tear down old walls."  
_-Between the Trees, A Time for Yohe

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Solitude. It was one of the reasons James had run away; his friends had seemed to be avoiding him like a plague, leaving him alone for all hours of the day. Desertion. That was how he'd felt when his mother had called herself. Emptiness. Something he'd discovered felt _much _better than pain and sadness and _everything. _Alone. That's what he was at the moment. He had woken to pain; an ache in his body he had never felt before, that made him feel like he was on fire. Alone and hurting, that was all he was. But James didn't really mind being left on his own. It had become almost natural to him, and being alone was so much different than solitude, desertion, and emptiness. It was easier, less painful. Because being alone only meant that someone wasn't with him at the moment. And frankly, time to himself, just to _think_, was just what he needed. To think, and to feel the pain.

Thinking, though, had never been one of his favorite things to do, at least not when he was pondering all the _bad _things that were going on. It was a struggle to think of something that didn't make him want to punch of wall or break down into tears. The past week had been a living nightmare, and he just wanted to wake up. Maybe if he did things would be back to how they should be, and he could hang out with Kendall, Carlos, and Logan without feeling like he or one of them would explode. But no matter how many times he pinched himself or ordered himself to wake up, he didn't. The situation was painfully real, and there was no getting out of it. So for the moment, all he could do was think.

He could vaguely remember something like what he was doing, in a book or a movie somewhere. It was called… facing your demons, or something along those lines. He liked the sound of that; it made him sound like one of those guys who hunted down the unexplainable and kept them from hurting people. _Facing your demons. _It sounded almost heroic, like he was the good guy. But he'd already hurt way too many people to be even remotely considered good. And from what he remembered, demons were _not _fun to deal with.

The subconscious mind is a funny thing, though. If there's something nagging at the back of your mind, no matter how hard you try to suppress it it will always come back around. That was what it felt like now. Whether he meant to think about it or not, little thoughts kept swooping in, screaming for his attention and then falling back, only to come back again. His demons were circling him, and now it was only a matter of flight or fight. James had never really been one to back down from a fight, but lately it felt like he'd been running from _everything. _He had to start owning up eventually, and if he couldn't do it around his friends- and he was certain that he couldn't do that yet- he could at least start when he had time alone.

Everything was so messed up. That was easily the biggest understatement of his life, but it was true. He'd messed up everything. For his friends, for his family, for himself. He'd held everything in like an idiot, and he'd taken jokes that were meant to be funny and twisted them into insults that made his friends look like they were cruel people. Only they weren't; maybe a bit naïve, and not as careful about some things as they should have been, but they definitely weren't bad people. He might be, though.

James ran his hands over his face, massaging his temples. _God I was such an idiot… I _am _an idiot… _His friends had done absolutely nothing to deserve the hatred he'd shown them. Well, maybe not _nothing_, but nowhere near enough to have earned such horrible treatment. The things he'd said to them… James grabbed at his hair, closing his eyes as he felt them begin to burn with tears. _Why do I always screw things up!_

They hadn't know about anything. They'd never tried to hurt him; they would never do that. He knew that, and he'd known it somewhere all along. It was like some monster inside of him- his own personal demon- was intent on making him and all the people around him suffer. _Something _had clouded his judgment, made him blind to what was really going on around him. Kendall, Carlos, and Logan had only been trying to joke around, like best friends do. Nothing was said with the intention of hurting him. Jokes. Only jokes. And there was no way they could have possibly known about his mother.

His mother. Paige Marie Diamond. She'd been a loving mother, a caring wife, an amazing friend. People were always saying how James was just like her in those areas, not to mention how much he looked like her. Mr. Diamond's job required a lot of travel, and although he wasn't the kind of parents that was never home to be around his family, Mrs. Diamond had been a stay-at-home mom. Everyone who knew her would tell you that she was one of the loyalist, sweetest, and most compassionate people the world had ever known. She was loved by everyone; with her gentle voice and reserved but friendly personality, it was impossible not to like her. Needless to say, her "death" had affected many, many people.

James had only been eleven years old at the time. He'd just started sixth grade, and although it was a big adjustment from elementary school, the year had been going pretty good for him. Derek, his older brother, was a junior in high school at that point, but he was the kind of big brother that every kid dreamed of; he was supportive and always had his little brother's back. Things were going great in both boys' lives, and it didn't seem like anything could ruin the perfection. But they were wrong. So, so wrong.

The call had come to Mr. Diamond while he was in a meeting in the next town over. A neighbor had heard a gunshot from his house and had called the police. His beloved wife had been found dead on the scene. His world had started crumbling right then. Someone had killed his wife, the mother to his children, the love of his life. But then the officer that had contacted him had given him the rest of the story, and his world had shattered. No one had killed his darling, sweet, perfect Paige. She had taken her own life. With a single bullet, she'd not only killed herself, but broken the lives of everyone who was close to her. And all she'd left was a note.

While he drove back as quickly as he could, Mr. Diamond had called Mrs. Knight and asked that she take James and Derek to her house until he could pick them up. By that point, she already knew what was going on; the Diamonds and the Knights only lived a few streets away, and the woman had heard the gunshot and the police sirens. As a close friend of the family, as well as practically being James' second mother, she'd kept the boys at her house, trying to distract them until their father arrived.

It was Derek that had run off, refusing to stay when something was obviously happening at his home. James, always one to follow his big brother, had run after, and together the two had quickly gotten to their house. Upon arriving, they noticed two things. One: their father, whom they'd never seen cry before, was standing in the doorway with tears streaming from his eyes and sobs shaking his body as a policeman- Carlos' father, they realized with a mixture of relief and fear- hugged him and tried to calm him down. And two: a gurney being loaded onto an ambulance. Covered by a sheet. And there mother was nowhere to be found. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together, and the only thing James could remember after that was Derek wrapping his arms around him and the two of them sinking to the sidewalk and beginning to weep. Their mother was dead.

That was a day that James didn't like to think about, but at the same time it was one of those things that a person just can't forget. The months after had been just as bad. His father, who had always been so strong in his eyes, had nearly fallen apart as he tried to keep his family together. The stress had been nearly too much to deal with, and for a while people had feared that Mr. Diamond would try the same thing his wife had. But that was what had saved him in the end; his sons needed him, and he knew he would never, ever leave them as long as they did. His children were his rock.

Derek had taken things just as hard, if not worse than their father. His grades slipped, he got into fights at school. He became a recluse for a while, only talking to James. He was supposed to take the SATs that year, start filling out applications for college, and with everything that had been going on at home, he'd nearly cracked under the pressure. At one point it got to the point where Mr. Diamond finally took both his sons to see a guidance counselor, hoping that it would help. Eventually, after many, many, _many _days of healing, a beam of sunlight had shined through the clouds, and things began to look up a bit for the boys. Maybe they hadn't completely gone away, but all the terrible things they had gone through began to get easier to deal with.

But no matter how much help they got, the fact that James was only eleven at the time had to be thrown into the equation. Eleven was old enough to considered more mature than younger kids, but still so young and innocent. James had been forced to grow up a lot, and despite how well he'd coped, he'd still been _eleven. _That's too young to lose a mother, and to lose her the way he did was beyond horrible.

The note Mrs. Diamond had said a lot of things, but mainly it was that she loved her family and friends and that she was forever sorry for what she was doing- or rather, what she had done. She hadn't given much explanation, just that for reasons unknown to her life had become tiring and hard to deal with, and while she'd tried to tough it out for as long as she could for the sake of her family, it had finally become too much. Too much. This was her way of escaping her problems, and although she was sorry for her decision, she couldn't bring herself to change her mind. She just-

It felt as though all the air had been forced from his lungs at that moment. His stomach dropped, and James was afraid that if his heart started hurting anymore he would die of heartbreak. "Oh god," he whispered, holding his head in his hands and staring straight ahead of him in horror. The tears he'd been holding back broke forth, pouring from his eyes as his breathing hitched.

His brother and father had had to deal with the pain of losing his mom along with him, and it had left them devastated. He'd never told Kendall, Carlos, and Logan the complete story of what had happened to her, but they understood that she had died, and they mourned with him. Everyone around him had suffered because his mother had run away from her problems. So, so much pain, and it had all been caused by one reckless decision.

Now _he _was the one running away from his problems. Whether or not he'd permanently removed himself from the world, he'd left all the people he cared about behind because he was weak and couldn't handle the pressure that he'd slowly let build on him. He loved his mother, he truly did; but that didn't make what she'd done any less wrong. That didn't make anything that he was doing any more right. With a sickening horror, James realized something that would have brought him to his knees if he'd been standing. As it was, he simply couldn't breathe. His body had stopped functioning.

James sucked in a shallow, labored gasp and started crying. He'd thought he was done with the tears. The last couple of hours he'd been awake had been confusing, but so… blissfully empty and unemotional. Troubling at times, yes, but not painful. Not like this. It was worse than the aches and pains he felt from the beating he had received not long ago. With what he'd just come to realize, he would have been surprised if anything ever hurt worse than it did right now.

Because with all the pain his actions were causing and the way he was letting his demons win, James realized that he was being no better than his mother.

* * *

"_Lost my mind thinking it through. The light inside has left me too. Now I know what empty is. I've had enough, had enough of this."  
_-Lifehouse, Had Enough

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**DID ANYONE PICK UP ON MY TINY SUPERNATURAL REFERENCE? I couldn't resist. :) I know this was mainly just background stuff, but there was still a pretty large amount of angst, right? I'm pretty sure I liked this chapter, so I really hope you did too. Please review!**


	11. Questions

**Oh man you guys. I'm so sorry. Life got in the way and my schedule became insane and I've just had the worst writer's block EVER. In fact, I still have it, and if it doesn't go away soon I'm going to break a huge rule of mine and start some other projects I have planned because I HATE not being able to write anything. So um… Yeah. You might see some Kendall angst or a shot at the 100 Themes Challenge soon.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

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"_Would you believe me if I said I was sorry? The question wasn't mean to hurt, it was just my fear of losing you."  
_-Every Avenue, Between You and I

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Kendall blinked tiredly and looked around the living room of 2J. Carlos and Logan were leaning back into the couch with Carlos' head on Logan's shoulder and Logan's head on Carlos', both having fallen into an uneasy sleep at about nine in the morning. Kendall envied them; sleep was a physical impossibility for him at the moment, because he mind refused to stop racing long enough for his body to relax. Because now that he really thought about it, he couldn't believe all the things he'd said to James.

The things he'd said were meant to be harmless jokes. None of them had ever expected James to take everything they'd said so seriously, but he had, and Kendall was kicking himself. How could he? He should have known better. He could remember all the bullies back in Minnesota that he and his friends had come across, with their harsh words and jokes that were meant to send kids to their knees. Kendall had practically done the same thing, except this time it had been his best friend, not some poor, random kid. Did that make him worse?

It hurt just thinking about it, and it made him want to run out and find James more than ever. Unfortunately, his mother had locked the door, and there was no chance of them getting it open without her hearing. It wasn't that she didn't want them to go and find James; she was just afraid that if her boys ventured into a dangerous district of town, she'd have not one, but _four _missing children to worry about. James being gone was bad enough; she would completely lose it if she couldn't find Kendall, Carlos, and Logan. Her logic made sense, but still, Kendall would have given anything in the world to be out in the city, looking for their missing friend.

As if drawn by the room by her son's thoughts, Mrs. Knight suddenly emerged from the top of the stairs, looking about as tired as Kendall felt. He watched as she slowly made her way down the stairs. He didn't mean to glare, but apparently he had, because when she saw the look on his face she visibly flinched. Kendall's face softened when he saw the hurt look flash through her eyes, but he remained silent as she stepped onto the ground floor and sank wearily into a chair near him.

Mrs. Knight looked over at the sleeping forms of Carlos and Logan, smiling sadly before she turned her attention to Kendall. "Have you gotten any sleep?" she asked softly, careful not to wake the other two boys. Kendall shook his head. "I can't." Under any other circumstances she would have forced him to go lie down and rest, but now she just nodded. She herself hadn't slept a wink, and it would have been hypocritical of her to ask that of her son, especially with how worried she knew he was.

"Did you know?" Kendall's voice broke the tense silence, and she looked at him in confusion. "What?" she asked. "Did you know about… James' mom?" Her eyes snapped up to his eyes in alarm, shocked at being asked such a question. How did her son know about what had happened to Paige Diamond? She'd never told him about it, and as far as she knew James hadn't either, unless…

Mrs. Knight opened her mouth to answer, but she closed it when she remembered that everyone else was sleeping. "Why don't we go into the kitchen and talk." It was more of a command than a suggestion, and Kendall knew from experience not to ignore a direct order from his mother. The two quietly walked into the kitchen, closing the door and the little window that opened into the living room. Once satisfied that their conversation wouldn't be overheard, Mrs. Knight turned around and looked at her son. "What exactly happened before I got home?"

Kendall was suddenly interested in a tiny smudge on the floor. "We had a fight, just like we told you," he said, but he couldn't quite the guilt out of his voice. "Kendall," his mother warned. Kendall glanced up at her and sighed in defeat. "Um, we fought about some things Carlos, Logan and I had said earlier this week and last night." His face turned desperate, begging her to believe him. "I swear we were just joking, we didn't know…"

Mrs. Knight's eyes widened as she put the pieces of the puzzle together. "Oh Kendall, you didn't…" she murmured, covering her mouth with a hand in horror. Kendall looked away in shame, unable to face the disappointment in his mother's eyes. "We didn't know," he repeated brokenly.

The woman ran a hand through her hair, unsure of what to say next. This put things in a whole new perspective. Her thoughts immediately flew to James and her heart broke at the thought of him having to sit there and listen to whatever his friends had said. "But you knew, didn't you?" Kendall asked, looking at her helplessly. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Mrs. Knight sighed. She'd known that this conversation was inevitable, but she'd hoped she would have more time to prepare herself and figure out what to say. The issue was incredibly delicate, and if it was brought to light wrong the results could prove disastrous. And they had. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to find a way to answer Kendall's question.

"Baby, when it happened… you were so young. _James _was so young, too young, and none of you needed to deal with any more stress than you were under. It wasn't like it affected your friendship, right? You still knew that James had lost his mother and that he needed you boys more than ever. If he'd felt that you needed to know, he would have told you."

"_He would have told you." _His mother's words echoed in his head, over and over again. _"He would have told you." _But James _hadn't _told them. Why? Why did James feel like he had to keep a secret like that from them? "Do…" Kendall swallowed hard before continuing on. "Do you think he didn't tell us because he didn't… because he didn't think he could trust us?" His lip started to quiver and he bit down on it. _If he didn't, he would have been right, _he thought sadly.

But his mother was shaking her head. "No, of course not sweetheart. When his mother… died, he was having a really hard time. He was hurting in ways that you probably can't even begin to imagine, and it was probably easier just to pretend that she'd died a normal death, especially around you boys. And- and keep in mind, I'm only guessing here- maybe, no matter how much he loved his mom, he might have been a bit ashamed that she… killed herself to escape his problems. That poor boy was so confused, and I _know _that at one point… He felt that he was a little to blame for her death."

Kendall's eyes widened at the very idea. There was no way that anyone in their right mind would end their lives because of James. If anything, he would have made their lives worth living longer. "How could James think something like that?"

As soon as he said it, a new wave of guilt washed over him. If people treated him like he, Carlos, and Logan had, it was no wonder James felt like he was to blame for so much. Kendall shuddered as he remembered to shattered look on James' face right before he'd left, how he'd cried and said how sorry he was. He thought that it was _his _fault that his friends had been acting like jerks, and _his _fault that he'd hurt their feelings because he finally exploded. Kendall wanted to go lay down. How could they have done this to him?

Mrs. Knight shrugged in response to his question. "I suppose grief can just do that to a person," she said gently. Kendall nodded numbly. "Yeah. You're probably right." He paused and looked up at her with wide, pain filled eyes. "But I still don't think he completely trusted us. If he had, he would have told us eventually."

Mrs. Knight looked at her oldest child sadly. It was clear that he was really taking everything hard, and although she couldn't deny that he was partly to blame for what was happening, that didn't mean she wanted to see any of her babies in pain. She sighed, seeing the distress that was dulling his bright green eyes. "Maybe he just wanted to forget. Did it ever occur to you that maybe he was fine and that he didn't want to hurt you or your friendships by telling you? Because no matter what has happened, I know for certain that James trusts you. You'll see. She paused for a moment to let her words sink, then turned and left the room to go check on Katie.

Kendall mulled over her words. He really, _really _wanted to believe what she was saying, but something was holding him back. He just couldn't quite believe that James had kept his secret because he didn't want to mess things up. Sure, the only real reason he had to tell them was that they were his best friends and they were supposed to trust each other with everything, but that should have been reason enough. Obviously, it wasn't.

Kendall had screwed up, big time, and he knew it. He'd pushed James so far away that he wasn't even within reach anymore, literally. Without meaning to, they had shoved him towards the edge of a cliff, and now they might not get the chance to pull him back to safety.

They had messed up so, badly. Ignorance might have been bliss, but no one can stay unaware forever. Kendall wished that they'd known what was happening all along, because if they had maybe they could have fixed things before they became so broken. So sure, ignorance was bliss, but when ignorance is ripped away, everything just comes crumbling down. Maybe that was why Kendall felt like he had so much pressing down on him.

They should have realized. _He _should have realized that something was wrong when James didn't take part in all the "jokes," or how he shied away whenever they'd tried to be funny and made fun of him. Kendall was supposed to be the freaking leader of the group, yet he'd let James' suffering slip right under his nose. The signs had been right in front of them, but somehow they'd all been blind to it as James sat back and slowly destroyed himself.

Kendall wasn't stupid. He could never deny that he, Logan, and Carlos were probably the reason James had snapped and run away. Perhaps there were other things that had led up to it, but in the end the three of them were the ones that had pushed him to leave. What they had done was unforgivable, and Kendall wouldn't even try to say anything otherwise. He willingly- albeit painfully- took that weight on his shoulders, on his heart. Because it was his weight to carry.

He only hoped that he would be able to see James again so that he could tell him.

* * *

"_What would you say if I told you that all I thought about is you since you've been gone? I wish someway, somehow I could turn this world right back around and mend mistakes I've made."  
-_Between the Trees, We Can Try

* * *

**Oooh Kendall angst. How fun. :) Um… I know this took a long time to update and probably sucked and was really short, but… Review please?**


	12. Discoveries

**Oh look, an actual update!**

**Sorry guys, my muse is just _gone _right now, at least for the BTR fandom. I'm going to try really hard to get this done within the next week or so (I don't think there will be more than a few more chapters unless I suddenly get inspired) and then I'll finish my other fic, and then I'll see what I want to do from there.**

**Sorry for the long wait!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush or anything affiliated. **

* * *

Kendall gazed straight ahead, hands clasped together and covering his mouth as he rocked gently back and forth. He wasn't looking at anything in particular, just looking to look. He was a man of action, the kind of guy that wouldn't go down without a fight, and if he would he'd go down swinging. But he wasn't swinging now. He was far too down at this point to do anything but sit and wonder. Wonder what was happening to James. Wonder if he would ever see him again.

Wonder if he was even alive.

Logan and Carlos didn't look like they were doing much better than he was; in fact, he was almost positive they were doing the exact same thing he was. These behaviors couldn't be healthy, and they certainly weren't normal, but Kendall really couldn't bring himself to care. The only thing he could think about what how much he hated himself for causing James so much pain and how it was all his fault. He'd caused this mess; there was no one he could blame but himself. Kendall blinked and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back a fresh wave of tears. If this was how James had been feeling for so long, it was no wonder he'd decided to run away.

He could only imagine James' father and brother were thinking. He knew that they were probably beside themselves with worry, because if there was thing that could be said about the Diamond family, it was that they were closer than any other family the world had ever seen. They were probably also thinking about how much they hated Kendall, Carlos, and Logan. Kendall was pretty sure that was a given.

"Boys," a quiet voice murmured from the kitchen, and the three of them looked up to see Mrs. Knight walking into the room. "I just got off the phone with the Diamonds." _Speak of the devil, _Kendall thought to himself, closing his eyes again as tears welled in his eyes. "What did they say?" His voice was croaky and sounded strange and foreign to him. His mother looked at the three boys, and they all noticed the dark rings under her eyes and the unshed tears.

"They'll be on the next flight down here, and Mr. Diamond said that there might have to be a lot of changes," she sighed. "I have no idea what he meant by that, but with everything that's happened in the last 24 hours change might be the very thing that James needs," she said in answer to their unspoken question. They all took notice to the fact the fact that she spoke as though James was definitely coming home and wasn't lying dead in an alley somewhere. She still sincerely hoped and believed that James would find his way back, even after everything that had happened to him.

After everything they'd done to him.

Kendall nodded and stood up, beginning to pace around the room as his mom left the room to go check on Katie. He'd never felt so helpless in his life and it was a feeling that he absolutely _hated. _What could he do? There had to be _something, _but whatever it might have been, it was good at hiding from him.

He stopped pacing and clenched his fists, back to his friends. Without warning, he slammed his fist into the wall, resisting the desire to fall to his knees and break down. He couldn't do that here, when his friends- the ones remaining- were counting on him to be strong. They had already witnessed one of their friends breakdown, and it was nearly destroying them right now. They didn't need to see another. He turned his head to the side, barely able to see past the tears in his eyes. And then he saw it.

It was a picture, nothing more. One of them must have brought it with them when they'd moved from Minnesota; he couldn't remember who. But he did distinctly remember Kelly bribing Mr. Bitters, without Gustavo's knowledge, so that they could hang it up in the apartment. It was a simple shot of the four of them sitting around a fire in Carlos' backyard. They were only thirteen, not even in high school yet, but there was a brightness in all of their eyes that they had rarely matched, even in all of their years of friendship.

It had been a regular "camping" trip, one just like the dozens of others they'd had before that, but this one was different. He could remember running around in the creek behind Carlos' house, nearly falling into the water. Kendall was almost positive that they'd almost made Carlos cry with one of their ghost stories, and the boy had vowed from that day forward that he would hunt any ghosts that ever happened to cross their paths. And then he remembered sitting around the campfire and roasting marshmallows, and talking. Just talking.

But they'd made a promise that night. He couldn't even remember if there had been a reason for it or not, but Kendall remembered that promise more clearly than most other promises the four of them had made. Because they'd promised, at the tender age of thirteen, when their voices were beginning to crack and they were finally starting to get taller, that they would _always _have each others' back, no matter what they were up against or what one of them might have done.

It had been so important to them that they'd almost had a blood pact, before Logan, ever the doctor that he was, informed them that they could all get some horrible disease and die if they did. So instead they'd written up a contract. Logan had made it all official looking and then they'd all signed it, burying it next to Carlos' beloved Sparky so that they would always know where to find it.

Kendall heard soft footsteps behind him and he didn't have to turn around to know that Carlos and Logan were there. And with his friends standing on either side of him and the picture in front, he suddenly knew what he had to do. He turned and stared at the two with a new determination, fire in his eyes. "I can't sit around anymore," he muttered, reaching for his jacket as he moved toward the door. He heard Carlos and Logan behind him and knew without a doubt that they would follow him no matter what he did. "I have to do something."

He took off running, silently thanking Gustavo for the countless hours of training he'd forced the boys to run and dance, building up their endurance. He didn't slow down until he had made it out of the Palm Woods and was standing at a sidewalk, suddenly faced with a decision to make. Without thinking about it, he chose a direction and began to jog again, ignoring the odd looks that people were giving him, Logan, and Carlos as they ran down the streets of L.A.

They ran, and they ran, and they ran, until finally they were completely out of breath and near one of the areas that Mrs. Knight had always told them all to avoid. It was definitely not one of the nicer sides of the city. Kendall pulled himself to a stop, looking around uncertainly. "I don't…" He wasn't sure whether or not they should go any further, or turn back and go the other way. They were pushing it just by being out of the apartment, and if his mom found out that they had been on this side of town…

Before any of them could reach a decision, the sound of voices carried from just around the corner. The boys exchanged weary glances but didn't move, instead unconsciously leaning forward and trying to make out what was being said. "Warned you… now… sorry…" Kendall looked back at Carlos and Logan, whose eyes were wide. "Maybe we should g-" Logan was cut off by a sudden, strangled gasp, followed by a sharp, "Let's get out of here!" The three could hear the sounds of footsteps running in the opposite direction, and then all was silent.

Kendall felt his eyes widen and his heart rate rise dramatically. What had just happened? He wasn't sure if he should go forward or simply stay where he was, but there was just something that was telling him to move forward, something that he felt he should be listening to…

And so he did.

He took a few hesitant steps forward, holding his arm out to make sure that Logan and Carlos would stay behind him. As he could closer and closer to what he finally realized was an alley he could hear rapid, labored breathing. He motioned for Logan to pull out his phone and get ready to dial 911 if necessary, but the braniac was already one step ahead of him. Kendall raised a finger to his lips and held up a finger, signaling that they would jump out on three.

_One…_

Carlos was tensing up, trying to mentally prepare himself for whatever they would find around the corner. He was scared, and he wasn't afraid to admit it, but Kendall wasn't showing any signs of turning back, so neither would he.

_Two…_

Logan looked between Kendall and Carlos, trying to swallow his rising panic. He didn't like this, not at all, and he wondered not for the first time if they should just turn back and call the police instead of going forward. But then again, the doctor side of him couldn't just leave if the person around the corner was seriously injured and in dire need of help…

_Three. _

Kendall, Carlos, and Logan jumped from where they'd been standing, looking wildly around the alley. Their eyes locked on the same thing simultaneously, and suddenly it was as though they couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't do _anything. _"No," Kendall whispered in horror, and suddenly he was sprinting forward, feeling as though his heart was go to explode in his chest.

"NO!"

* * *

James stumbled through the alleys, not even sure what he was doing anymore. He was done letting the demons win. _Done. _He wouldn't turn into his mom and leave behind the ones who loved him the most, not after everything they'd done for him and all they'd been through together. _Gotta get home, gotta get home._ If he had to be alone for another minute, he was going to-

James closed his eyes and blinked back tears, picking up his pace without really looking where he was going. _Gotta get home, gotta get home. _Oh yeah, he was _really _going to need to see a therapist when he got back, but that was a sacrifice he was more than willing to make if it meant that he could see his friends again and apologize and make everything right again. _Gotta get home, gotte get-_

He jumped as he was grabbed by the shoulder and spun around, his back slamming harshly into the wall and irritating his earlier injuries. James let out a low groan and looked around, his eyes widening as he stared into the dark eyes in front of him. "I thought I told you what would happen if you ran into us again," Felix growled, glaring with so much hate that James nearly passed out right there.

"I'm s-sorry," he stammered, not daring to move. "I-I didn't mean-" He broke off as he was pushed harder against the wall, his breathing picking up as fear took over. James could see other figures behind Felix, but he paid them no mind. "We warned you what would happen if you showed up here again," the gang leader snarled, and James saw his hand move out of the corner of his eye. "And now you're going to be _really _sorry."

There was a sharp pain in his side, and James gasped, feeling his breath leave him like he'd been punched in the stomach. But it was so much worse than that. As he slid down the wall he dimly heard Felix yelling, "Let's get out of here!" Felix's grip on his shoulder disappeared and he pulled the knife he'd stabbed into James out, letting the boy slump against the wall, his eyes fluttering shut. He could here footsteps getting farther and farther away, but then it also sounding like someone was running toward him. Was dying to supposed to be like this?

The footsteps continued to draw nearer, and then soon as they was within a few feet they slowed, no longer sure what to do. James was only half conscious at this point, struggling to hold on, but he didn't miss the whispered, "No." He knew that voice, he realized through a haze of pain. He knew that voice… but… He didn't say anything, though; the effort to speak took way too much out of him, and he couldn't afford to lose the energy. With every breath that he let out he felt a little bit more of his life slip away, and he knew that he couldn't hold on for much longer.

He pressed a hand to his side, closing his eyes and moaning quietly at the sudden pressure. Almost immediately his hand was wet and sticky, but he tried not to focus on that. "NO!" the voice shouted again, and it made James want to cry. He was hearing things, he knew it. Was the world really so cruel that the last voice he heard would Kendall's, even though there was no way he could be there?

The footsteps were sprinting for him now, and he could dimly hear someone drip to their knes beside him. "James? James, stay awake for me, okay buddy? Come on," the voice muttered, his heart sinking as James' eyes fluttered. "We'll get you some help, you'll be okay. Okay, James? Let's get you some help." James felt some sort of cloth- a jacket, he realized- at his side, pressing it where James' hand was in an attempt to stop the bleeding. James weakly moved to hold it down, his hand trembling. James didn't make a sound; he was too lost in a world of pain to do anything but hold on and try to bear it. He could dimly hear the voice whispering things to him now… Or was he yelling? James couldn't tell. Everything sounded distant and muffled to him.

The voice became more frantic, but James was oblivious. In the background someone was yelling for help- why did it have to sound like Logan?- and someone patting his face frantically, trying to keep him awake. He could just barely hear another voice now, that sounded suspiciously like Carlos'. "God, you have to save him. Please, we need him, you can't take him from us. Please, please, please, he doesn't deserve to die. I know I've already asked for too much, but please, do this for me. Don't let him die, God."

And then everything was black.

* * *

**So I really hated the beginning of the chapter, but I loved the end. Cliffies are so much fun, are they not? **

**Like I said, I'm going to try really hard to finish this within the next week, so expect faster updates than you've been getting. Thank you all for your patience with this, and for those of you who have stayed with me, I love you so much. **

**Review?**


	13. Waiting

**Well. Um. Clearly I fail because I don't think that updating two weeks after I said I wanted a fic done within a week is quite right. Granted, this is faster than I think I've updated in a while, but by the same token two weeks does not qualify as a fast update. My bad, guys. That's what happens when you take a summer course, have an English project to finish (still haven't finished either yet), you go to strength and conditioning/volleyball camp every morning, then don't get any sleep at night so you crash and take a bunch of naps during the day. Lol I'm not trying to complain, only explaining. :) Also, a huge thank you to the lovely Miss Fenway, who went back and reviewed the entire fic even though she really didn't need to. Love you, girl. :) So I'll end this now so that you can on to the actual chapter and not listen to me anymore. Love you all!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush or anything affiliated.**

* * *

It was cold. Why was it so cold? They were in Los Angeles for crying out loud; it was never anything but warm, at least by his Minnesota standards. In fact, if he was going to compare this to Minnesota weather, this was _way _colder than anything he'd ever felt before. He shouldn't be so cold, but there he was, feeling like he was about to freeze to death even though he wasn't even shivering. And it was black. So very, very black. Why was it so dark? He struggled to open his eyes, but nothing happened.

But at least he could still hear. Except he didn't want to listen to anything right now, because he was so tired and he just wanted to fall asleep and would it _kill _these people to be quiet? It wasn't like they were yelling, either, whatever they were saying was muffled. Just quiet enough so that he couldn't tell what they were saying, just loud enough to keep them awake, and he really just didn't appreciate that at the moment, especially when he was _so incredibly tired. _And numb.

Why was he numb?

Because he really couldn't feel anything. Something felt like it was pulling in his side and pushing on his chest, and he really wanted to open his eyes and at least see what was happening, and then maybe yell at whoever was making so much noise, but he couldn't move. He couldn't open his eyes, couldn't move his arms and legs, couldn't even-

"_Breathe!"_

The word seemed to jump out at him from the incoherent mumbling, and he instinctively sucked in a breath, wanting to frown when his chest barely rose and fell but still unable to move. But whatever he'd done seemed to be enough for the voices around him because they got quiet for a minute and the pressure on his chest went away a little, but not entirely. But then there was a pressure on his side and _ow,_ that freaking _hurt_, and he heard a tiny moan and more silence before he realized that he had made the sound. _Okay, what is going on?_ He gathered what little strength he could- why was everything so hard all of a sudden?- and opened his eyes so that they were mere slits, but he could still see through his eyelashes.

Except maybe he _hadn't _opened his eyes and his imagination was putting on a show for him, because what he was seeing didn't make sense. Because Logan was kneeling by his stomach and pressing a torn piece of someone's shirt against it, and _OW, _why did the pain have to spike right then? Then there was Carlos, whose mouth was moving even faster than it usually did but it was taking a little while for the words to reach him- and were those tears rolling down his face? And then there was Kendall at his side, placing a jacket over him that did nothing to fight the coldness, and for some reason he seemed like he was crying to-

And then something clicked into place.

It was distant; his brain didn't seem to want to cooperate with him for some reason, nor did his eyes because they were making everything all gray and fuzzy and hard to see with. But for some reason it seemed like Kendall, Carlos, and Logan weren't supposed to be with him, and that the walls were light and dark and there was red stuff everywhere and he was just getting _so tired_ and he wanted to sleep _so badly…_

"You found me," a whispered voice said, and judging by the way three heads snapped in his direction he figured it must have been him, although he couldn't remember why he was saying it. And then he felt his lips pulling up slightly and everyone was staring at him in disbelief as he smiled, _smiled _even though whatever was happening obviously wasn't okay. "You found me," he whispered again, except this time he could barely even hear himself and his lips were hardly moving.

His eyes slipped closed without him even meaning for them too, and suddenly the voices were back and they seemed like they were yelling at him, screaming even as everything faded, and then there was some kind of wailing that he knew he'd heard somewhere before but he couldn't quite place. He felt something heavy on his chest, heavier than before but even as he tried to pull in a breath he found that for some reason he couldn't this time. _That's weird…_ And as the weight got heavier and heavier, the voices grew quieter and quieter and for some reason he had the feeling that something bad was about to happen, and before he even knew what he was doing he'd whispered an, "I'm sorry," even though he couldn't even hear himself so he highly doubted his friends could.

Then he felt himself being lifted, and there were more voices now but somehow he managed to hear one above the rest. _"Don't you dare give up, James!" _And then he was being lifted and falling at the same time, and he knew no more.

* * *

Kendall Knight had never liked hospitals.

He'd never quite understood why. Obviously they were there to help people and keep them alive, but there had always been something about them that he'd never felt quite comfortable with. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that no matter how many lives the doctors saved, there were always those that couldn't make it, and it just didn't sit right with him that while someone could be celebrating new life or remission in one room, someone else could be dying in another.

He also didn't like the waiting. To him, waiting was never good. He'd waited too long to see what was wrong with James, and that had ended badly. And then he'd waited too long to go looking for him, and that had nearly ended in disaster. It still _could _end in disaster, and the longer he had to wait to hear about his friend's condition, the less optimistic he was becoming.

There were police there, and he knew that they would want to talk to him, Carlos, and Logan eventually, but not now. Not now, when Carlos was curled into a ball and barely able to sit up, and Kendall was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown, and Logan was covered in blood. James' blood. Which was completely wrong, and everyone knew it, and there was no way that any of them could tell the officers about how they'd driven their best friend away and possibly gotten him killed in the process.

Although he'd already seen his mom talking to one of the officers earlier, so they probably knew most of the story by now anyway. At least the part they actually knew. There were a lot of holes that needed filling, and that could only be done by James. _And the punks that hurt him, _Kendall thought, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists. But supposedly the cops were already looking for them, and they already had a lead on where to look, and it would only be a matter of time before they were taken into custody.

But none of that would matter if James died, at least not to Kendall.

As soon as the doctor entered the waiting room Kendall was on his feet, and the second he called for the family of James Diamond the boy was bombarding him with questions. "Is he okay? Will he make it? I saw bruises, what are those from? Is he even going to live?" The man looked tired, and that didn't make Kendall feel any better in the slightest.

He heard footsteps behind him and his mother's hand fall onto his shoulder, but he continued to stare at the doctor, waiting for the news. The man was clearly a no nonsense kind of guy, and his eyes flicked up to Kendall before glancing down at a clipboard he held in his hands, seeming oblivious to the fact that everyone was holding their breath as they waited to hear of James' condition.

"I assume you're his guardian?" he asked, looking at Mrs. Knight. When the woman nodded, he said, "I'm Dr. Ben Stimit, and I will be James' attending physician. Mr. Diamond will be fine; he's sleeping right now and we've done everything we can to help him. We'll need to monitor him for the next few days, but assuming there are no unforeseen complications he's expected to make a full recovery." The relief in the room was almost tangible, but he continued on as if he didn't notice it.

"Now in answer to your question, young man, Mr. Diamond has fairly large amount of bruises on his body, as well as a few minor cuts. He appears to have been struck on the head at least once, but there was no sign of a concussion so that's good news. We've stitched up the stab wound in his side; fortunately it was a clean cut, and the only thing we really had to worry about there was the blood loss that came with it. However, we have him hooked up to an IV that will keep him hydrated and help his body to produce more blood. My biggest concern was his lungs; several of his ribs were broken, and one of them punctured his lungs, which compromised his breathing. I believe we've fixed the problem, and he is able to breathe on his own, but we will have to monitor him closely to make sure everything heals correctly."

Seeing their stricken faces, the doctor offered a small smile. "I'm confident that Mr. Diamond will fully recover. He's very lucky that you found him when you did, otherwise I'm not sure that we would be having the same conversation that we are now." Kendall resisted the urge to snort at the man's word choice. _Lucky. _Yeah, James was just so _lucky_ to be lying on a hospital bed with a stab wound and a punctured lung.

But it sure beat the alternative, so Kendall kept his mouth shut.

"We should be moving him out of ICU any moment now, and then you can go back and see him." Kendall felt his heart rate pick up a little, although he didn't really understand why. Maybe it was because he was going to see for himself that James was actually alive, and that the doctor wasn't just messing around with them.

Or maybe it was the fact that this time when he saw him, he wouldn't be bleeding out in an alley.

"I'll go see about moving him, and I'll send a nurse to bring you to his room when we've got him situated," Dr. Stimit said, leaving the waiting room. No one really knew what to say once he'd left. James was alive, and that was all that mattered. He would be fine, Kendall assured himself. The doctor said that he would make a full recovery, so he would be fine. But by the same token, Kendall was pretty sure that the recovery he'd been referring to had been James' physical one. There was no telling what kind of emotional scars this would leave behind, and with everything he'd been through, Kendall couldn't see any easy way out for his friend.

But for now he wouldn't worry about that and focus on the fact that James was alive, and that they had brought him home. And in the end, wasn't that all that really mattered?

* * *

**So I'm thinking that there will be two, maybe three chapters after this and then I'll be done with this once and for all. Then I'll work on getting Little Boy Lost done, and then… You'll see; it's kind of a surprise. But for now, I'm so sorry for the huge wait and I'll try my best to get the next chapters out soon but I can't make any promises because I'm just too busy for my own good right now. Oh, and apparently I've had account for over a year now. And I didn't even do anything to celebrate. Obviously I'm too scattered for my own good. –dead- Thanks for reading!**


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